A Continuing Affair
by Light-and-Smoke
Summary: A glance into Ariadne and Arthur's acquaintance through Inception and beyond.
1. So This Is Your Workspace

I do not own Inception, though I wish I did.  
And the small pieces of dialogue that are taken from the movie have been modified.

* * *

"So…this is your workspace?" Ariadne asked as Cobb opened the door to a drafty warehouse, furnished only by cheap pine desks and odd bits of machinery.

"It isn't much, but it's enough for what we need to do." Cobb admitted, leading her over to the semi circle of plastic lawn chairs.

"And what is that exactly?" she asked, sitting down and slinging her jacket over one arm of the chair. She couldn't fully place her trust with this man she had only just met an hour ago, a man who looked as if he was in his 30's, behaved as if he was in his 20's, and had eyes that looked as if he had lived for centuries.

Cobb almost gave a smile, and looked as if he would have responded wittily, but at that moment, another young man walked into the room.

Ariadne wasn't proud to admit it, but she did a double take. Or a triple take. For starters, he looked as if he had wandered into the wrong workspace. He was dressed in a three-piece suit, of all things, and it appeared to be without crease. It also fit him like a glove, though Ariadne tried not to concentrate on how much it complimented his physique. He was lean and tall, but then again, with her 5'1 stature, it was easy to be taller than her.

Concentrating now on his face, she noticed his expression. It was…blank. Like he had never smiled before. In a matter of seconds, Ariadne's impression was made up. That man was clearly far too arrogant, far too proud, and far too aware of his effect on women. Or, more so, her.

It was within that moment she realised that she had been staring at him for far too long, and that he had seen it all with a smirk on his handsome face. She glanced away, fiddling with her scarf.

"Morning, Cobb." He greeted, and Ariadne was astonished to find that his voice was a pure melodic opposite of his expression. How was that even fair? Her regard for him only sunk lower.

Cobb nodded. "Arthur."

Ariadne's eyebrows rose. _Arthur? _At least that made up for something. She could take some small delight in the fact that his name was clearly an old family one.

"This our new architect?" Arthur asked.

Cobb glanced sideways at Ariadne, noticing just how much she hated being talked over like a child, and let her respond.

"My _name_ is Ariadne. And I'm not anything, yet," she said coolly. "I'm not quite sure I want to commit myself to something I know barely anything about."

Arthur's smirk grew. "Well, this job isn't something you find every day." He walked over to a desk strewn with paper and folders, shrugging off his coat as he went. "What I'm trying to say is, you have to open your mind a little." He locked eyes with her, and she held her breath. Had his eyes always been such a warm shade of brown? How was it possible that he existed, with so many contradictions surrounding him?

Cobb cut across her vision, distracting her momentarily. He was holding some sort of tube.

"Ariadne." He said gravely. "How much do you know about shared dreaming?"

* * *

Arthur put five minutes on the clock of the PASIV device and watched the first time dreamer sink off into Cobb's world. He tilted his head, studying her features. She was barely a woman; surely she must still be a child. But that was only when she was asleep. Arthur recalled the fire in her eyes when he had awoken her temper, the steady way she held herself in a world she knew nothing about.

He found himself smiling slightly, and shook his head. Work. Inception. An impossible thing. He had to focus on making the impossible possible. So why did that thought lead him back to dwelling on Ariadne?

He busied his mind by concentrating on the PASIV, and playing their waking song, '_Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien'_. Cobb had insisted on it, even after Mal's death.

Mal.

Arthur remembered working with Mal, the few times she had accepted a position on their team. She had mostly wanted to explore the different possibilities that the dream world provided.

Cobb was the same, but someone had to work, and that was how they had entered the extraction business.

And Arthur? Well, he had been trained in the same way as Ariadne would, selected from university, finding a world that shouldn't have ever existed. And after a few successful jobs with Dominic Cobb and his lovely wife, he found his calling.

Mal had used the song to remind them that what they were doing wasn't completely illegal all the time. They had helped catch criminals through the PASIV. They had brought some good into the world through their jobs. They should never regret their life, because they had done so many incredible things that shouldn't have even been possible, and they were lucky to be the select few who could.

Of course, Mal changed soon after that. Arthur wasn't one to pry (at least not when it came to the personal matters of his colleagues and friends), but he knew some of the facts surrounding her death, that while it could have been suicide, Cobb appeared to be the one who had thrown her from the hotel window. But Arthur sensed the falsities. Cobb would have never laid a harmful hand on his wife, and Mal was more than capable of protecting herself, unless it meant that pain would come to another person.

Perhaps an enemy of the Cobb's was to blame.

Either way, Cobb had returned to his work along with his dead wife's favourite song, and Arthur would never question him.

The PASIV showed the time as 0:00, and Cobb sat up, smoothly removing the tube from his wrist. Arthur was pulled from his thoughts as Cobb responds to a question from inside the dream.

"Because it's never _just_ a dream."

Ariadne's focus shifted back to Arthur's face, their eyes locking again. He blinked and glanced away, resolving not to meet her eyes anymore. Their depth continued to shock him, and he didn't want to fall any deeper than he already was.

* * *

"Hey, hey, hey. Look at me. You're okay. You're okay."

Arthur put a soothing hand over Ariadne's wrist as she gasped and clamped an arm over her stomach. Arthur knew the signs. She had been woken from the dream too early, most likely from an injury to her abdomen. He watched her eyelids flutter, watched her try to come to terms with reality.

"Why wouldn't I wake up?"

"There was still some time on the clock. You can't wake up from within the dream unless you die."

"She'll need a totem." Arthur glanced at Cobb as he rushed off, looking like a man condemned. His brow furrowed. What happened down there?

"What?" Ariadne continued to quiver and move, edgy after her attack. Arthur focused on her. Cobb was a grown man. He could take care of himself for now.

"A totem, it's a personal item—"

"That's some subconscious you've got on you, Cobb!" Ariadne spat at Cobb's retreating back. "She's a real charmer."

Now Arthur knew. Mal. "I see you met Mrs. Cobb."

"She's his wife?"

Arthur grimaced. "Yeah." Best to not let her know about the dangers of dreaming. "So a totem. You need a small object. Something you can have on you that no one else knows."

Her panting was so distracting. He had to concentrate.

"Like a coin?"

"No, it needs to be more unique than that." Arthur pulled out his only comfort, his totem. "Like, this for example. It's a loaded die."

Ariadne frowned, reaching for it.

"No, I can't let you touch it. That would defeat the purpose. See, only I know the balance and the weight of this loaded die."

She had gone back to panting again. Why was that so distracting for him?

"That way, when you look at your totem, you know beyond a doubt that you're not in someone else's dream."

Ariadne attempted to pull herself together to warn Arthur.

"I don't know if you cant see what's going on or if you just don't want to, but Cobb has some serious problems that he's tried to bury down there. And I'm not about to just '_open my mind_' to someone like that."

She watched the effect his quote had on him before grabbing her coat and storming out. She tried not to dwell on what she had just witnessed. Especially the handsome, warm eyes that had flickered with amusement at her fear-fuelled rant.

And she tried to block the feeling out of her head that this wasn't an ending, but a beginning.


	2. Nothing Quite Like It

I do not own Inception, though I wish I did.  
And the small pieces of dialogue that are taken from the movie have been modified.

* * *

Ariadne found herself back in the workspace only two days after her run-in with Cobb's subconscious wife. She had been walking through Paris, and had wound up facing the door, wondering if anyone would be there. More importantly, whether Arthur would be there.

She rolled her eyes. How was it possible that she was attracted to such an arrogant man? But how did she know he was arrogant?

The two conflicting ideas distracted her common sense for long enough so she could allow her courage to take control and try the door.

It was open.

She walked in, uncertain of what she would find, and of course, she found Arthur.

He was facing away from her, taking care of the device they called the 'PASIV', and he was wearing some sort of…she stifled a snort….sweater…with a dress shirt peeking out from underneath. A sweater? Really? But she did have to admit he wore it well.

She couldn't help noticing just how muscular he was, especially without the hard lines of a suit covering him. Ariadne watched him work with a sad kind of fascination, before clearing her throat and heading over to talk to him.

He turned and, upon seeing her, smirked. Or was it a smile? How could she tell the difference?

"Cobb said you'd be back."

Okay, maybe it was a smirk. But Arthur looked fairly happy.

"I tried not to come," Ariadne admitted.

"But there's nothing quite like it." He finished for her.

"It's just….pure creation." She agreed, and a look of understanding passed between them. They both glanced away, uncertain.

"Shall we take a look at some paradoxical architecture?" Arthur offered.

"Well, you really know how to capture a girls attention." Ariadne teased, sobering up when he raised an eyebrow at her. Did he have to look so suave?

* * *

They were walking up a flight of stairs once the dream started.

"In a dream, you can cheat architecture into impossible shapes." Arthur kept his intent gaze forward, but Ariadne could almost feel it burning her. How did he manage to make architecture sound like he was offering some sort of…more sensual pleasure? Her mind must be more in the gutter than she thought. She fought to catch up with wherever his lecture had gone now.

"…like the Penrose Steps. The infinite staircase."

She glanced around to find that they were enclosed in a replica of the famous illusional Penrose Steps.

They continued to climb the steps until Arthur reached out and gently stopped her. Ariadne tried not to let it show just how much that small touch affected her.

Arthur watched her expression change, assuming the gasp was from the sudden height they gained from the staircase improbability.

"See? Paradox." He started back down the stairs without pause, leaving her to start after him.

"My subconscious seems polite enough." Ariadne noticed, glancing around at the elegant women and suited men passing by.

Arthur kept an eye out. "You wait, they'll turn ugly. No one likes to feel someone else messing around in their mind."

Ariadne knew the feeling already. Forget the shared dreams and paradoxes; Arthur was already messing around with her mind much more than necessary.

Arthur was merely amazed at how quickly she was picking up on dreaming, and amused at how much her subconscious created suits that looked like his.

"Cobb can't build anymore, can he?" Ariadne's assumption took Arthur by surprise. Was the little architect already falling under Cobb's spell? Arthur didn't like the disappointment he felt with that notion. He attached himself to the subject at hand.

"I don't know if he can't, but he won't. He thinks it's safer if he doesn't know the layout of the dream."

"Why?" Ariadne tried to focus on the conversation, but her eyes kept flicking back to his chest…his warm looking, soft, sculpted chest…Focus, Ariadne.

"He won't tell me. But I think its Mal."

"His ex-wife?"

"No, not his ex."

"They're still together?"

"No." How he wished he wasn't the one to tell her this. "No, she's dead."

Ariadne's eyes widened. Arthur hated being the one responsible for the shattering in her eyes. He made a small vow to himself to never be the person to ruin her ideals again.

* * *

"Today I want you to show me one of your designs."

Ariadne looked up, nervous already. Arthur had been teaching her the origins of shared dreaming, simple dream plans and architectural, mind-blowing tricks for the past two days now.

His mind, on first impression, was very professional and stark. But Ariadne saw some depth to it.

She noticed that in every setting, be it beach or office, would have some sort of visual representation of a family. Specifically a young couple and their young son: in a picture frame, on a poster, in paintings. She didn't bring it up, but he told her whilst on a lecture about being the dreamer that no one could control the smallest specificities in a dream if they were connected to those specificities by emotions or thoughts. For example, his taste in art would be on display even in the most basic house setting. Ariadne learnt it had got him into trouble in the last extraction, with Mal shooting him in the knee-cap. She refused to think any further on the subject.

Ariadne noticed other things as well. Beneath the stony façade, he was incredibly creative. He found a way to trick even her subconscious in one dream, where she couldn't find him and had wandered aimlessly with her projections into various settings. It wasn't till she woke up that she realized that the change of scenery from rainforest to gym should have been a trigger that she was, in fact, dreaming. Yet another dream, again where she lost Arthur, left her boxed up in a closed loop with her projections, trapped into going around a building no matter which way she turned, or any different route she took.

Arthur distanced himself from her as much as possible during those exercises. Ariadne thought it best. He was utterly unbearable somehow, but even so, she was drawn to him. She assumed it was merely because she was drawn to the shared dreaming, and when Cobb returned, it would change. Or at least, she hoped so.

"You sure I should design a dream?"

"Of course. You're the architect."

"But what happens if it…explodes, or…disintegrates…" Ariadne searched her mind for the word Arthur used for unstable dreams.

"You mean, if it _collapses_?"

Ariadne glared at his smirk.

"Whatever." She muttered irritably, causing Arthur to suppress a chuckle.

"I have every faith in you, Ariadne. Don't let me down."

She looked up, startled.

He realized that he had become too personal, and cleared his throat a little. "I'll give you fifteen minutes while I ready the PASIV. That enough for you?" His challenging tone was back.

Ariadne stared at him, defiant. "I'll see you in seven, then. That enough for you?"

He only smirked again, or was it a smile, this time? He turned before she could see, and she got to work.

* * *

Arthur appeared in the middle of an art exhibition like he had never seen before. It was set inside a very modern building, with the exterior walls made of glass that was at least 4 stories high. He was standing on the upper balcony of the inner walls that created a small box inside the building. Arthur saw a lift in the centre, and used it to get to the ground floor.

When he stepped out of the lift, he saw Ariadne talking to his projections: the worst ones to pick. He ushered her away from the young couple and their son.

"Hey, I was just comparing my pastry recipe with that woman." Ariadne complained. "Hers made a lot more sense than the one my grandma gave me."

"I'm sure you learned a lot." Arthur said shortly to her. He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, calming down.

Ariadne was about to ask, but she analyzed how distressed he was, and left the situation alone. It wasn't crucial for her to know. She looked down.

"Uh oh."

Arthur looked up, distracted. "What is it?"

"We're matching." Ariadne tried to say it without smiling.

Arthur looked down as well. She was right. He wore his typical grey suit and vest, with a plain red tie. Ariadne wore a strapless red dress, and Arthur was suddenly hit by the fact that she didn't look at all like the young girl she had been when she had walked in only a week ago. She was stunning. He shook his head, focusing. Business. Inception.

"Never mind. Will you show me the exhibition?"

She walked ahead of him to bring him to the first artwork, and he prayed he wouldn't be too distracted by the little strip of red fabric.

Luckily, her creative mind distracted him instead. The first piece was a set of Russian babushka dolls, continuously hopping in and out of each other. The smaller ones expressions would change every rotation, while the big one remained unfazed, wearing the same blank look.

Ariadne wordlessly moved on to the next work. This one was an architectural work, a miniature twisted building made from blown glass: impossible in reality.

"Did you design this?"

"Yes," She smiled fondly.

"You know it can't be created, don't you?" He immediately regretted how harsh his words sounded, and how he was such a know-it-all.

She turned to him, her hair swirling around her. "Yes, it can. I saw the final product of it only ten days ago. It's sitting on Professor Miles' desk right now." She sighed happily, then glanced at Arthur's face, which just barely masked his astonishment. "I guess that's the challenge today. You have to guess what's impossible and what's possible."

They wandered along past a caged and prowling Thylacine Tasmanian Tiger. "Impossible." Arthur stated. "Thylacines became extinct in Tasmania in 1936."

Next, they ducked under a rolling wave that froze in mid air as they approached, and proceeded once they had crossed under it.

"I've always wanted to do that." Beamed Ariadne. "Ever since I heard about Moses making that path through the sea…"

Arthur glanced sideways at her, just beginning to understand her creativity.

He was in awe of it.

She caught his eye. "What?"

"Nothing."

"You think I'm a child, don't you?" Ariadne meant to sound accusing, but it was ruined by her small smile. "I swear I'm not, and I haven't been for quite some time."

"You've certainly got the hands of one." He said, taking her hand and holding it palm to palm against his own for comparison.

"Oh, just cause you're a giant." She laughed. He smiled softly in response.

They stood frozen and looking into each others eyes for a moment longer than nessicary, then stepped apart and glanced around awkwardly. Or, at least, Ariadne did. Arthur just appeared to be nonchalant. Each was wondering about the others actions.

-Why should he be so unfazed by everything? He's doing this on purpose. Bastard!

- Why was she so uncomfortable? Does she have a boyfriend? No more personal attachments, get a grip.

* * *

After a full ground tour that also developed into an underground cave without Arthur's knowledge (he secretly blamed the dress), they went up to the balcony again. Ariadne pointed out the large painted sheet that was as big as the warehouse floor they worked in, hung on the glass halfway between the ceiling and floor. The wall was close enough so that they could accurately see the canvas in detail. On it was a face, done in thick black lines against the while background. The extraordinary thing about it was that the line that made up the face were not lines at all, but tiny drawings of birds, and trees, and computers, and logos. Everything and anything that was remotely connected to life was displayed, inch by inch creating the face.

Arthur knew it wasn't true. It couldn't be real.

"Impossible." He breathed.

Ariadne suppressed a laugh. "It's real. I saw it at another art show Granted, it was only half the size it is now, but that's still at least twenty feet long. The guy who drew it said he worked on it five hours a day for an entire year."

"Bravo." Arthur said in disbelief. "Oh, look, he even drew in my lucky elephant."

"Where?" Ariadne searched. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

"In the top right."

"Where?"

"Near the eye."

"…where?"

Arthur pointed to it, but the angle was different from Ariadne's point of view. Without thinking, he stood close behind her, face next to hers, and pointed out the damned elephant.

"There."

"Oh."

She smiled, and turned her head slightly to thank him. Then it hit her how close he was, his smooth cheek brushing hers, his soft lips exhaling gentle, warm breathes onto hers, his warm, dark eyes catching her own.

Ariadne stood, languid, his gaze relaxing her. Then she came to, stepping away, scalded by the heat of his gaze. They paused, then both checked their watches.

"Well, I guess we'll be – "

"I'm sure the – "

They both stopped and Arthur, like the gentleman he was, nodded for her to go first.

"Do you mind if I wander around alone for the last few moments. I don't normally get a chance for my dreams to be so real."

"I think that would be a good idea." Arthur agreed, not even noticing how the sentence might sound like a rejection. He was merely concerned about making sure neither of them got too close. That would be a very bad idea.

He heard the lift doors close, and he sunk to the floor, dazed. That would _not_ happen again. No matter how much he enjoyed it. No matter whether or not there was nothing like dreaming, and no one like her.

* * *

_**Hi Everyone!  
**__**Well, as most of you can guess, this is my first time writing on FanFiction, though I've been reading everything for a while now. I decided to become a member to see if I could even compare to some of the works out there.  
**__**Hopefully I wont let you down.  
**__**I've only written about six chapters worth of this, so I'll try to edit, reanalyse and post them as quickly as I can. However, it is my last year of school and all, so I'm sorry if I don't update fast enough.  
**__**If you have any suggestions, any comments, any questions, or even any requests for things I can incorporate into the story, feel free to review and tell me.  
**__**Thanks!  
**__**Light-and-Smoke.**_

_**PS. I'm changing the rating to T...not sure whether or not to M-it-up at the moment. **_


	3. I'm Back With Company

I don't own Inception. Etcetera

* * *

"I'm back from Mombasa."

Cobb's gravely tones wafted through the warehouse, accompanied by more than one set of footsteps.

Ariadne and Arthur glanced up from the desk where he was showing her the inner workings of the PASIV device. Four men walked into view.

Arthur recognised three, though he wished he could never see two of them again. The first was, of course, Dom Cobb himself.

The second, a man Arthur hadn't worked with yet, most likely the Chemist.

The third, their elusive backer, Saito, whom Arthur refused to trust. It felt as if there was an ulterior motive that no one would understand till it came round and stabbed them in the back. Or the stomach.

And the fourth, a man Arthur would usually refuse to work with, if he had a choice that didn't involve life or death. Eames.

Ariadne on the other hand, had no idea what she was looking at when she observed these four new men.

Cobb, she understood now, was a force to be reckoned with, and she wasn't sure she wanted to.

The exotic looking man seemed harmless enough, with a friendly smile on his face, but Ariadne knew better than to trust anyone based on appearances alone, especially in this line of work.

The Asian businessman looked like Arthur did the first time she met him: like he had wandered into the wrong workspace. But there was a frown about his face that looked as if he knew how to be ruthless, in the same manner that they all did in this business.

And then the last man walked in, in a manner that stated that he wasn't late, he was never late, he was arriving on the time that he had planned, and everyone would have to deal with it.

Ariadne felt Arthur tense up next to heras he walked into the room, clearly this wasn't a man she wanted to rely on, especially if she trusted Arthur's opinion.

And, she hated to admit it, but she did.

The fourth man, however, didn't seem to get that. As soon as he locked eyes on Ariadne, the only female in the room, he grinned wolfishly and made a beeline for her.

"Eames. The Forger. Pleasure to meet you."

Eames grasped her hand in his own gun callused one and kissed it. Cobb quirked a brow. Arthur clenched his jaw. But Ariadne's reaction surprised them all. She gave a very loud, ungraceful snort of laughter.

Eames continued regardless. "I see you've been training with our resident stick-in-the-mud Arthur." He glanced over to Arthur, who was as stony faced as ever, and winked. Arthur folded his arms across his chest.

"If you ever want to have a more _pleasant _night of dream training, you can always ask me, darling."

Ariadne knew this type. Flirtatious, handsome, _British_. But harmless. Each man watched as she struggled to regain some composure.

"Eames-The-Forger? I'm Ariadne, the…Architect. You…are…ridiculous."

Eames cracked a real smile at this, and shook her hand. "Ariadne? I think we're going to get on swimmingly."

* * *

"So…what's the deal with you and Mr Point Man?" Eames asked, patting Ariadne's back as she choked on her coffee.

"I-have-no-idea-what-you-mean." She rushed out between coughing fits.

Eames smiled at her affectionately. "My dear, I've seen you. You alternate between staring at him and ignoring him. Did you two have a fling while Cobb was in Mombasa?"

Ariadne tried to be repulsed by that idea. "No."

"Then do you wish you did? Because the man may seem a bit like he has no…preferences…"

"Ah, but I thought that was you, Eames."

He chuckled. "I may seem like I'm confused about my sexuality in dreams while I change gender, but believe me, I'm not confused in reality. I prefer looking at a companion that doesn't look like me."

Ariadne smiled into her coffee. "Nice example. By far the best reasoning I've ever heard."

"Don't change the subject, darling. Arthur has his preferences too. Preferences for little brunette architects."

"Very funny, Eames."

"There's no humor here."

Ariadne raised her eyebrows.

"Alright, maybe a little. But Arthur's very specific with all his 'specificity'." Eames made a big show about Arthur's favorite word. "And I've actually never seen him interested in anyone before."

"I don't believe you." Ariadne said, realizing too late that she didn't deny her apparent attraction towards the Point Man.

Eames only smiled, knowing what she knew, and carried on. "But you should. Listen to your brother Eames here – "

"Brother?"

"I'm almost 29, that's old enough to be your brother. Now shut up and listen, love. Either you fess up and do something about the sexual tension that's flying round the warehouse, or you do nothing, and wither away."

"I reckon I'll choose the latter, thanks. There is nothing going on, and nothing will."

"But you haven't mentioned want. Do you want something to happen?"

Ariadne was stubbornly silent.

"You do?" Eames pressed, smiling.

"I just haven't thought about it, okay?" She snapped.

"No need to get your panties in a twist."

The thought that the topic of Arthur was getting her panties in any position only made her scowl.

"My God you're stubborn." Eames laughed.

"Well how would you like an interrogation?" She harrumphed.

Eames leaned back in his seat. "Be my guest."

"What about _your_ love life?"

"You'll have to dig deeper than that." Eames rested his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

"Married?"

"No."

"Girlfriend?"

"No."

"Desire to have one?"

"None."

"Ever been in love?"

"I've been in lust."

"You don't believe in love."

It was not a question, it was a statement.

Eames opening his eyes to meet Ariadne's disappointed gaze. "No. No, love is not an emotion. There's desire, lust, admiration, but no love. Love is made up by artists as a concept, and some human beings use it as an excuse, but love is still just a four letter word."

"You're wrong." She sighed, older than her years, as if she was talking to a child that denied the fact that the Earth revolved around the Sun. "Love may be a creative concept, but it is possible, Eames. Who broke your heart?"

Eames gulped, sitting upright again. "My mum. She abandoned us when I was only a child. My dad was heartbroken. So was I."

Ariadne let out a breath, before going round the table to hug Eames. They were still in this embrace for a while. A cloud crossed over the sun, and when the light came back, the morbid feeling passed. They drank the rest of their coffee and left, sharing a new comrade-ship in the new sunlight.

* * *

Ariadne yawned. She had fallen asleep at her desk again. She sat up, rubbing her face to try and wake up more, though all she managed to do was smudge charcoal over her skin. She tipped over her new totem, the golden bishop, to assure herself that she was awake in reality. It tipped over smoothly, clunking to the wooden tabletop.

"Falling asleep on the job again?" A deep voice asked from the doorway. Cobb leaned against the door jam, rubbing his wrist. He'd been dreaming alone again. Ariadne wanted to ask, but thought the better of it. She'd find out in her own way soon enough.

"What time is it?" She asked.

"1:30am." Cobb replied. "C'mon, I'll take you home."

He laughed when she got closer. "Ah. But first I reckon we'll get rid of the soot on your cheeks."

Ariadne mentally cursed at her clumsiness. "Yeah, about that, I like to work with charcoal, and –"

"No problem, Ariadne. Remember, I was an architect once too." He went to grab a damp cloth from the small kitchen.

"What did you do before dreams?" Ariadne asked while she heard the tap running.

"I was going to design homes." He said, his voice echoing. "I got through all the courses I needed, did a few designs for some small companies, and then Miles found me. I trained…met Mal…" He reappeared. "You know enough of the rest."

She didn't press. "Do you still draw now?"

"Not for dreams, obviously…" His mouth mashed up into a wonky line. "But to create, certainly. When I get back to my children – " He swallowed. "I'll create homes again." He held up the washcloth. "Wanna grab a mirror, or should I wash it for you?"

"Oh, go ahead." Ariadne really didn't care. Cobb took her head gently and rubbed the cloth along the grey streaks. She felt like a kid again.

"Why do I feel like I'm cleaning Phillipa's face after a painting session?" He gave a short laugh, the closest sound to happiness she'd heard him make.

"Phillipa likes art?"

Cobb smiled. "She got my imagination, and Mal's creativity. She loves colors. James, on the other hand, likes more physical fantasies. He pretends to be an explorer, an air pilot, a superhero."

Ariadne could hear that small parental worry in his voice. He was worried his children would go down the same path as him and Mal.

"Cobb? I know it's not my place, but can I say something?"  
He paused, giving her some space. She looked him in the eye. "I know you want to worry and fret over them, but they're in good hands. And they'll be with you soon, I know it. But you don't need to worry about their future. They'll be what they want to be. Just don't worry, alright?"

They both knew what she was asking was impossible, but he smiled.

"I'll try. Thank you."

"No worries."

He swiped her forehead a few more times before declaring her charcoal-free.

They locked up the warehouse and drove towards her apartment. When they were almost three blocks away, Cobb sighed.

"Ariadne? Can I say something?"

She glanced away from the lights on the car window, caught his eye and nodded.

"We haven't had a girl on the team since Mal. I guess we were worried about the…mental effects this job can have. But you've held up well. What I'm trying to say is, I'm very proud of you. And also, don't dwell on Mal. The girl you see in my head, she's not my wife. My wife was a loving woman who protected those around her fiercely, a charming extractor with a way around words, a creative and cunning woman. You would have been like a sister to her, I know you would have gotten along well."

Cobb sighed again, his breath shaky. "Just know that not everything is doomed. But be cautious about dreams and reality. Sometimes you need something to ground you firmly to this earth. Life is about reality, about not getting what you want and valuing what you have. Remember that for me, will you? And if you can, remind me of that fact when I do something stupid."

They had been sitting out the front of her place for a while. Ariadne nodded, squeezing Cobb's hand gently. Not trying to make a pass at him, trying to pass something on.

After he had driven off and she closed the door to her apartment, she thought over his words and came up with her own.

We are all so human.

* * *

**_Alrighty,_**

**_Firstly, thank you for the amazing support and comments and favourites, everyone! I really want to respond to you all, but I'm about to get to that point. Just letting you know now that especially since its my first time showing anyone my work EVER, I'm flattered and moved by the incredible praise and support, even if it is just a 'I like your story'. :) So thank you!  
The one problem with timing, work and everything is that I have barely had time to rewrite some of these sections and post them, let alone respond to you guys. So don't be alarmed if you get a really late reply, I'm going to get there.  
I can't post for a few days, but I promise I'll be back.  
Keep checking, I won't abandon the story._**

**_Thanks!_**

**_Light-and-Smoke_******


	4. Ma Petite Architecte

_**Here's a treat for you guys, since you've all been so loyal and helpful while I went on a few crazed sessions and changed stuff and made you wait. **_

_**This is dedicated to everyone who has favourited this or wrote a review. Thank you!**_

_**Light-and-Smoke**_

I do not own Inception. If I did, then this back-story would have been included!

* * *

"Ariadne?" A voice murmured, far away. It was recognisably melodious.

She sighed, inhaling a distinctive scent, like a mixture between metal and sunbaked grass. There was another element she just wasn't getting right now, but it was enough for her to identify Arthur.

What was she doing? Was she asleep in Arthur's bed? Shouldn't she be at least a bit disgusted by that idea?

Ariadne's eyes fluttered open. Arthur was looking down at her…and her face was resting against the desk. Again. She'd snoozed at work. Again. She sat up.

"Arthur." She acknowledged him, attempting to maintain the calm professionalism that had sprung up between them in the past week. Truthfully, her attitude towards him was a little icy. He'd been avoiding her, and she couldn't figure out why, but it annoyed her nonetheless.

She thought for a moment that they might have been becoming friends, or that they were at least professionally content with one another. Clearly she was wrong. Their current acquaintance was, if anything, even more discontent than they had been before.

"Are you alright?" His tone of concern caught her off-guard.

"Of course. I'm fine." Ariadne refused to meet his eyes, tidying up the desk instead. She checked her watch, she could go out for lunch around about now, grab a big pot of coffee and work for a few more hours.

"When was the last time you slept? Without the machine?"

Ariadne thought back. "Well, I slept just then…"

"In a _bed_, Ariadne. At _night_."

She closed her eyes to stop thinking about the sexual innuendos that were unintentionally embedded in that.

"A little while ago." She stood up to leave, and Arthur moved to block her path. Why was he flicking from nothing to caring right now?

Ariadne let out the air in her lungs in a huff, finally meeting his eyes. She was actually shocked at the warm depth and honest concern hidden there.

"Last night?"

"No…I had to finish the first level."

His brow wrinkled, and she fought the urge to smooth it out with her hand. She couldn't stand imperfect lines, as perfect as his were.

"You already finished the first level."

"Well, I did, but then I had this idea that came to me, and I had to incorporate it."

Arthur attempted a small smile. "Ri, I know what its like. I do. But you need to rest. Ideas will still come naturally, and you'll work fine, but not if you're running on empty."

Ariadne was stuck on that nickname. "Ri?"

He exhaled, slightly embarrassed. "Is that all you got out of that talk?"

Ariadne tried to quell the blush almost beginning to colour her cheeks. "I'm going to go grab lunch."

"Not like that you aren't." Arthur stopped her, using his thumb to wipe away the smudge below her eye from her sleeping on her designs.

Ariadne was confused; he was close, and caressing her cheek for far too long to get whatever it was off her face, and he had practically avoided her for a week, she was sleep deprived and slightly hungry…her knees buckled. Arthur grabbed her shoulders to support her.

"Alright…you should have a rest day."

"And you should not tell me what to do."

They glared at each other before Arthur called a truce by offering his arm to help her out to the car. She wanted to refuse it and walk out herself, but she knew she probably couldn't make it alone and he was trying to be more gentlemanly now. They walked out to the car supporting one another.

* * *

Ariadne must have fallen asleep in the car, because the next thing she knew, she was awake in the back of a nice car with soft leather seats. She knew it was Arthur's car, however, he was not in the drivers seat, or anywhere that she could see. She sat up, disoriented, and looked out through the windows.

The car was parked by the seaside, in a nice small community parking lot overlooking the small waves and the gentle rocky slope that met it.

Ariadne spied her signature red coat on the front seat, and scrambled over the arm rest to get it. She found her totem after a short frantic search, and fumbled to get it upright on the dashboard so she could tip it over. It fell noisily, as it should. Ariadne was in reality. But where was Arthur?

She scanned the boardwalk in front of the car and spotted him walking towards the car, not even 30 feet away. She had to tip over her totem again to check. He'd seemed to appear just when she needed him. How could she trust that?

Ariadne got out of the car to meet him. He smiled at her, a real smile, before handing her an ice cream. She curled her hand around the solid chess piece in her pocket, feeling the small rough patch where she had altered the weight, the tiny scripture engraved into the bottom. Still in reality. Just very un-Arthur-like behaviour.

"I took a guess and picked strawberry. That alright?"

Ariadne took the cone, nodding. "Thank you. Its my second favourite flavour."

He shook his head. "Ah. Almost got it. What's the first?"

"Green Apple." She confessed, letting a small laugh shake loose at his expression. "Weird, I know, but its great. You rarely find it nowadays."

Ariadne sat on the car hood next to Arthur, trying not to devour her ice cream too fast or watch him eating his own. She failed miserably at both. He showed no sign of noticing except for a faint smirk.

"I thought you said I should have a rest day."

"This is a rest day."

"I thought rest implied sleep."

"You slept in the back seat the whole way here." Arthur smirked again. "And besides, are you complaining?"

"No." Ariadne had to remember how to breathe, flustered. "But why did you abduct me to the seaside?"

"My parents used to take me here all the time." He confessed, trying to sound as off-hand as possible. He still seemed to be melancholy, and Ariadne immediately scolded herself for bringing up something he was clearly not comfortable with. "Anyway, I always feel energised here. I hoped it would do the same for you."

"Thank you." She gently nudged him with her shoulder, swallowing at the heat that coursed through her from that contact. "And you're right, this time. I haven't felt this alive for a while."

Ariadne caught a drip as it reached her fingers, and Arthur focused determinedly on the breaking waves.

"I'm glad." He said softly. He caught her eye and she felt the warmth burning from his gaze. She blushed, glancing away.

"If you're ready, I'll drive you back." He offered. She nodded.

He stood and helped her off the car hood. Their stomachs knotted from the contact, thought they both refused to show it.

As they drove back to Paris in companiable silence, Ariadne began to change her impression of Arthur. He was not the predictable, planned force she had thought he was. He was deeper than that. He could really think on his feet. He astounded her. He continued to surprise her.

Yet she still resisted that comfortable way they settled into each others presence. She couldn't trust that. She couldn't trust herself. Where had that come from?

* * *

Arthur was testing the sedatives. Merely because he was the only team member comfortable enough to allow Yusuf to experiment with sedative levels.

Ariadne couldn't help but feel a little fear for the Point Man going under like this so often. What would happen if he didn't wake up?

Not that she should care anyway, he could be such a snooty, arrogant child, especially in addition to the ratbag version of Eames. But testing sedatives and kicks was either admirable or insane.

Eames got amusement out of seeing Arthur recover from each fall that Yusuf put him through. So if Ariadne thought so little of him, shouldn't she be joining Eames in this continuous watch of odd slapstick humour?

Or should she just wake up and admit to herself that maybe, possibly, perhaps only slightly, minutely, she might be considerably attracted to him. Just a little.

She wondered what he was dreaming about. Could he be dreaming about her? Why would he? And if he was dreaming about anything at all, then it would clearly be something that he didn't mind being awoken from suddenly. So he probably was dreaming about her that would be more of a nightmare that he would love to be awoken from.

She blinked. Had she really given so much thought to this that 15 minutes had already gone by? Ariadne made a vow, no more time wasted on Arthur. And no reading into small simple gestures, such as how his eyes glowed when they caught hers. Or how each and every time they woke up from shared dreaming, he would glance over to see that she was okay. Or how she managed to make him smile more than her teammates, though that wasn't something to read into. None of those were.

"Ariadne?" Arthur's voice, simple and smooth, brought her back to reality. He walked towards her, and she caught her breath. What was that vow that she had made, only moments earlier? How was she supposed to keep that? And how long had she been standing there mute while Arthur looked down at her, a smirk already appearing on his face?

"Yes?" She attempted some coherency.

"The others were wondering whether you could show us all the hotel for the second level. You ready?"

Somehow, the question didn't seem like it was linked to anything work related. Ariadne wondered if she was ready, ready to admit that maybe, just possibly, she was actually very into Arthur, and that maybe, just possibly, he might be into her. Slightly. Was she ready?

"Yes."

* * *

"Nice." Eames was the first to comment as they settled into the dream world. Ariadne smiled and glanced at the neat, five-star surroundings.

Cobb adjusted his cuffs and cleared his throat. "Alright. Ariadne, take a tour with Arthur. Teach him the layout. Eames, Saito, Yusuf, lets talk about how the hell we're going to get the mark into this dream in the first place. We'll meet back here ten minutes before the end of the dream."

Arthur gestured for Ariadne to lead the way, and she walked towards the bar area. She took a seat, amazed to find the place empty.

"Where are all the projections?" She had been too distracted with creating an entire city in the last session to notice or ask about the lack of public.

"Cobb prefers to create the levels without anyone's subconscious interfering." Arthur walked behind the bar to grab a bottle of Italian red wine and two glasses. Seeing him as bartender, with his sleeves rolled up and his tie loosened, was a fair enough aphrodisiac for her.

The lighting of the room dimmed slightly to a warm yellow, and intricate glass centrepieces wound their way out of the tables.

"That way we can alter the dream without worrying about the dreamer being shot. And right now, I'd prefer to enjoy a bottle of wine instead of a shooting match to protect you from Eames subconscious."

Arthur glanced up at her and allowed a small smile to slip by his defences.

Ariadne smiled back, and accepted the glass he offered her.

They talked vaguely along the lines of work and how their mark, Fischer, would fit into the scene. However, the topic soon wound down to different things, as it always did when they worked together. Each dream would finish with an odd discussion about their childhood, or their favourite take-out food, or where they would love to live and why. This time, it came down to age.

"I am actually 23." Ariadne stated, placing her empty glass on the tabletop.

Arthur looked doubtful. "Really? Well, that makes me feel better. Didn't want to be caught out serving drinks to a minor."

Ariadne playfully tapped him, allowing her fingers to play on the edge of his shirt sleeve. "Okay, one: That was uncalled for. Two: We're in a dream, who's going to catch you? And three…" She looked up at him, realising how close they were, and tried to maintain some control. "You never did say how old you were." Ariadne wished she had come up with something wittier than that, something sly and seductive, but that wasn't her way. Not when she was this wound up.

"I'm 27." He watched her concentrate fiercely on her fingers as they trace the edge of his shirt cuff. He reached out silently with one hand to stroke her hair, but pulled back at the last instant before he made contact and sighed.

"C'mon, show me the rest of the level." He pulled away abruptly and walked steadily towards the lifts, leaving Ariadne to her own thoughts. Which were short and simple.

Cock-blocking Jerk.

As if he was 27.

And the inevitable…

Would he ever show any interest?

She was seriously doubting Eames at this point.

She kept her distance in the hotel room, allowing him to wander around and modifying anything he said was not specific enough. It was as if the incident in the bar had never happened. And Ariadne hated how much that seemed to fit in with Arthur's wishes.

She kept it well hidden until they were travelling back down in the elevator, when her sudden wish that time would stop and give her a moment with him translated into the dream world.

The elevator froze between the third and fourth floor, and Arthur found himself stuck in the silence with someone he shouldn't have become so close to: Ariadne.

She leant against a mirrored wall with a sigh. "Look, Arthur…"

He surprised her by walking forward to meet her toe to toe. "Yes?"

Ariadne shook her head slightly, "Arthur, I'm interested in you. And I know about the dangers of getting involved with someone on the team, and I know that you probably wouldn't ever consider me out in the real world, but I feel like you should know this before this whole plan comes to life fully, just as a warning."

She gazed at him levelly, fully accepting the consequences. However, she didn't anticipate his reaction. He broke all pretence and all the barriers he had built between them.

Arthur leaned forward, stroked her cheek, and kissed the corner of her mouth.

"_Ma petit architecte_," he smiled, running two fingers down the side of her neck. "We have to concentrate on getting out of this job alive. You know that." Arthur gave into one of his many temptations of the moment, ghosting his lips down the same path of his fingers.

"But you also know that the moment we finish this job…" He smiled into her collarbone. "You're mine for the night."

His smile turned into a smirk as Ariadne sighed and traced her fingers under the collar of his shirt. The lift started in motion again, and the new pair reluctantly stepped apart as the doors opened on the ground level.

"I never got a chance to tell you that this hotel looks amazing. Cobb certainly approves." Arthur said quickly as they exited the lift.

"And what about you?" Ariadne asked, always more direct.

Arthur kept his eyes locked on hers. "I don't approve. I'm in awe."

Ariadne lagged behind a moment as they reached the others, attempting to cool down the schoolgirl blush that had appeared out of nowhere.

Arthur kept up appearances, remaining focused on the issue of 747's and the notorious Fischer. Ariadne, who could afford to be distracted for the moment, looked around at the hotel. He was in awe? She couldn't decide whether that was cheesy or sweet. She touched the path he had traced onto her neck, branding her. It still tingled.

"Ariadne?" She blinked, looking to Cobb. "Terrific work, by the way." He nodded, gesturing towards the impressive surroundings.

Arthur looked over and winked at her. She gave a secret smile and kept walking up the stairs, hoping they would turn into the beloved Penrose Steps that would lead her back to Arthur.

_**

* * *

Review if you like-y :)**_


	5. Interlude & Uncharacteristic Flirtations

I do not own Inception.

* * *

"Saito, book us another seat on the flight."

Cobb cursed himself for the umpteenth time. Why, why, _why _had he chosen such an inquisitive architect? It was what made architects good at what they did, but it had only caused him trouble so far.

And he hadn't realised just how attached she was to Arthur at this point. Having them train together was a brilliant idea, but now it was working against him. He didn't need a lecture on how clinging to the memories of Mal was tearing his sanity apart; he just needed to return to Phillipa and James.

And he had been so caught up in his regretted moments that he had failed to see the other danger to the team: The Architect was falling for The Point Man. If it continued…if it jeopardised the job…they could all end up in Limbo.

Cobb, usually so calm and collected, was shaken as he strode away from Ariadne.

Arthur felt the same. Why had she been with him? He usually wasn't the jealous type, but Ariadne and Cobb's friendship seemed to function on a different level. The two architects never did shared dream training together, but when he had walked in with Saito to a dark warehouse and a PASIV that was only just being packed up, it sparked his curiosity. What was going on?

Saito glanced sideways at Arthur, gauging his reaction in a manner that only he could pull off. He then followed Cobb outside, pulling a wafer thin phone from his suit pocket to make a call to _his_ airline.

Arthur was left alone with Ariadne.

Which would have been perfect on any of the other days this week. She made him feel at ease, made him feel like a person, and not just the dream job. They hadn't brought up what happened in the hotel dream again. They'd been too uncontrolled then. Arthur couldn't risk that.

But he couldn't think about that. Not today. Now, they were all on edge. The mission was about to begin. And Cobb was hiding something from him.

And Ariadne knew what it was.

And she wouldn't tell him.

He could tell the moment he looked over at her and saw her face, apologetic and shaken. Her beliefs had been shattered again. And while he hadn't been the one to do it, he wanted to kill Cobb for being the one who did.

"You're not going to tell me what's wrong, are you."

"You already know I can't."

"Well you can't come along. I don't want you in the direct path of danger."

"Trust me when I say that its probably more dangerous if I don't come along. And I'm not letting you get into trouble without me."

The words were so Ariadne, cheeky and strong, that he would have believed she was alright. But she seemed shaken to her core. Her mind was elsewhere, dwelling on different things.

Different people. People related to Cobb.

Arthur sighed. "It's Mal, isn't it?"

Ariadne only looked back up at him resolutely.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it down. "He said he had it under control."

"Well, now I will."

Her dedication to Cobb unnerved him. He tried not to read too far into that.

"I don't need to tell you just how dangerous this is. You'll be going into three-layers, you aren't prepared for the entirety of this dream, and within that dream you'll be planting an idea inside a mans head, as well as dealing with whatever issues Cobb has decided to confide in you."

Arthur took a deep breath and curled his fingers around Ariadne's. "What I will tell you is that I don't want you to come along. But you wouldn't listen to that either. I'm fighting the urge to just grab you and run now, even though its not the right thing to do. Just…please be careful."

She nodded, her expression a mirror of his, determined and strong.

"Well, well, well." Eames waked in slowly, grinning. The pair backed apart. Arthurs face was particularly stony. How did Eames find so many ways to ruin his day?

"I hear the little architect is going to be joining us on this big adventure."

Ariadne gathered up her coat and bag. "Yes." She looked over at Eames and frowned. She looked up at Arthur, smiled, and left.

Eames at least had the dignity to wait for the door to close after her before he interrogated Arthur. "So what happened?"

Arthur adjusted his tie. "Cobb said she's coming with us, so she's coming with us."

Eames frowned. "Ah, but that's not like you, darling. You wouldn't allow any last minute changes, would you?"

"Goodnight, Eames."

"Especially when they concerned the new architect. _Your_ new architect."

"_Goodnight, Eames._"

"Cause I'm sure that there have been a few uncharacteristic flirtations flying around recently."

"Eames, I'm sure the only flirtations that have been flying around are the ones made between you and the mirror."

"Say what you will, love, I majored in Behavioural Psychology. Some hormones are hopping here."

"Eames, I'm sure you really want to show off how you majored at Asshole University, but we have a job to do tomorrow. And it just got more difficult."

Arthur reached for the door. Eames leant against it.

"Seriously, Arthur. If this is an issue, I'll shoot her in the head two minutes into the dream. I don't want to see her getting hurt. She reminds me of my kid sister."

Arthur took a deep, calming breath. "I appreciate the gesture, Eames. But if anyone is going to deal with Ariadne, it'll be me." He pulled sharply on the door to dislodge Eames, and walked out into the night.

* * *

Arthur couldn't sleep.

Granted, he could never sleep, not since he started this job, not even since he was a kid. But his mind wouldn't keep quiet tonight.

He thought about calling in on Ariadne, then thought the better of it.  
No. Why not visit Cobb?

Arthur drove round to his hotel, and politely knocked on the door.

"It's open." Cobbs baritone voice came through.

Arthur knew better than to attempt to open a door when invited. "It's Arthur."

"Who?"

"Mr Gates." His own version of the Mr Charles.

He heard the latch being drawn from the door before it opened to show Cobb. "Come in." He said, clicking the safety back on his gun once he saw Arthur was alone.

Arthur sighed, stepping into the room. He wondered if Cobb would ever live freely again. He hoped for it.

"Why're you here?" Cobb asked, an edge of exhaustion seeping into his voice. He sat down on a corner of the bed, rubbing his temples before smoothing his hair back in one swift motion. It was a sure sign of stress that Arthur himself had adopted after working with Cobb for so long.

"Couldn't sleep. As always. You know." Arthur admitted haltingly, sitting down in the only straight-backed chair in the room.

Cobbs eyes pierced him. He felt that same feeling he always got when Cobb analysed him, like he was a building with possible weak supports under the ground. He felt like Cobb could see every thought in his head.

Arthur returned Cobbs eternal gaze for as long as he could endure, before glancing away. Cobb won. He knew.

"It's Ariadne, isn't it?"

Arthur tried not to think about how he had used that same line for Cobb's own dilemma only hours ago. Instead, he exhaled through his nose. "Possibly."

They stared each other down again. Arthur tried to read Cobbs reaction. Was he…hostile? Protective? For all Arthur prided on his Point Man credibility, he certainly couldn't read the extractors face.

"just how attracted to her are you?"

Arthurs mind flashed back to the outburst of emotion in the dream world. "Enough."

"Enough for what?"

Arthur paused, thinking his words through. "Enough for me to be concerned."

"We all are." Cobbs eyes were wild with inner turmoil. Something was trying to break free. It unnerved him.

"As long as we all are." Arthur assured.

Cobb nodded.

"And we all have everyone's best interests at heart."

Cobbs nodding continued.

"And we all, to the best of our ability, protect each others mental health."

Cobbs nodding slowed.

Another staring match ensued.

"I trust you, Dom." Arthur held his gaze, trying to soothe and console his mentor…his friend. "I know you'll do what's right."

* * *

Arthur arrived at the airport early, checking in and waiting in the lounge. He had boarded more airplanes than he would have liked in the 5 years he had been dreaming for a living, and the flight points had given him at least the comfort of leather couches and good food before the exhausting flights to nowhere.

Sadly, they had also done the same for Eames, and he always knew just where to find Arthur.

"Hello, darling."

Arthur sighed. It was tempting to completely ignore Eames and continue on to find a seating area of his own, but that would only cause Eames to be even more immature. He might as well grit his teeth and get it over and done with.

"Eames," Arthur sat down in the chair across from him.

They sat in silence for a moment, before Arthur's annoyance broke through. "You know how dangerous it is for us to be seen talking before we board a flight as strangers."

"Oh, I know."

"Then why did you acknowledge me?"

"I thought you might want to sit down for a chat."

"Not interested." Arthur gathered his things to leave.

"It's about our dear architect."

Arthur mentally cursed. Of course Eames would have picked up on this. He was the forger. Not to mention a pain in the ass.

Eames leaned forward. "Look, all joking aside, I regard you as a brother, Arthur. A very uptight, stick in the mud, how-the-hell-am-I-related-to-you brother. So you can understand that when I realised you were having a very uncharacteristic flirtation with the charming Ariadne, I began to feel concerned."

Arthur didn't know whether to be touched or irritated. Considering the fact that Eames rarely showed an emotion that wasn't frustrating or wrong in nature, he went with the former. "And what were those concerns?"

"That you'll both get lost. That we'll all get lost. That this will affect the job."

"You don't need to worry. The job wont be affected by anything."

Eames fixed Arthur with a look. "I wasn't finished."

Arthur took a deep breath through his nose and nodded for Eames to continue.  
"You both might be hurt by this. Remember Mal and Cobb? And speaking of our rather disturbed ring leader, what about the relationship between the extractor and the architect?"

"Meaning?"

"I just don't want to see you being lead on some merry chase after a girl. We all know it's been a while, Arthur."

"Well I can assure you that I won't be running hard after her if that is the case."  
"Just don't fall flat on your face, mate. That's all I'll say."

Arthur sighed. Eames hadn't exactly given him much to hope for. "Is there anything positive you have to comment on?"

Eames rolled his eyes. "The girl's fair into you, Arthur. And this is the most relaxed I've ever seen you, even though you're still wearing those stiff suits. I'm just glad it hasn't gone too far. It was bad enough seeing you two eyeing each other off and mooning over one another like love-sick teenagers."

Arthur set his jaw, deciding that he had had enough of Eames for one day. "Alright. Good day, Mr Eames."

"See you in my dreams, dear Artie boy."

* * *

**_Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favourited, and helped me with the last chapter.  
Hopefully this story runs more smoothly now. We're very close to Inception!_**

**_Please keep reviewing, even if you don't like something. Constructive criticism is hard, but helpful. But then again, so is positive feedback... so either would be lovely. It really makes my day :)_**

**_Thanks,_**

**_Light-and-Smoke_**


	6. References and Promises

I do not own Inception. I only own this story, an annoying cold, and a few other things.

* * *

Ariadne boarded the plane with a knot in her stomach. As she dwelled on it, it turned into a ball of lead. She crossed her legs on the seat, distracting herself with a novel.

She realised she had read the same sentence eight times over when Arthur set his bag down on the seat behind her. She breathed in, catching the mixed scent of gunmetal, aftershave and silk ties that was distinctly Arthur.

It set her at ease almost instantly. This would be okay. She remembered his words from yesterday and took comfort from them. This would be okay.

She glanced around to Eames and watched him block the aisle, disgruntling the man behind him, the mark: Fischer. She then watched wide-eyed as Eames somehow extracted Fischer's passport and handed it to Cobb.

She really didn't want to know how he did that.

Ariadne tried to focus back on her book as the plane took off, and ignored her guilty conscience. They were about to change a man's life, and they wouldn't know whether he would survive from the outcome. He could climb from the wreckage of his fathers company successful, or he could be ruined in the carnage.

She glanced over and saw Cobb interacting with Fischer, about to give him a drugged glass of water. Ariadne fidgeted in her seat, not willing to accept this idea.

She heard Arthur clear his throat behind her and she sighed in reply. She wished she could turn around and talk to him, even just to catch a glimpse of his face, but she couldn't do anything but pretend she didn't know the amazing men sitting around her.

Ariadne realised with a jolt that she had actually connected with these bizarre criminals over the past few months. She would have never guessed that she could call insane businessmen her friends, or a handsome stick-in-the-mud man her…lover? She smiled at that. She would figure everything out once they were back on solid ground.

A solid _thwunk_ brought her attention back to the matter at hand. Cobb was using the blanket manoeuvre to check to see that Fischer was thoroughly knocked out, before nodding to the stewardess.

The silver PASIV case was handed to Arthur, and lines pulled out before Ariadne could fully comprehend what they were about to do.

Arthur handed Saito his line, before turning to Ariadne with hers. She obligingly rolled up her sleeve, and allowed Arthur to gently insert the tube for her.

"You sure you want to do this?" She looked into Arthur's eyes to find that underneath his calm facade, he was just as uncertain as she was. And that made her trust him.

"It's be better if we're on the same level of consciousness, don't you think?"

He lightly kissed her fingers, a risky manoeuvre in his book, before taking the last line from the PASIV and returning to his seat. Cobb eyed him carefully across the aisle, and Arthur nodded to him before relaxing back into his seat and closing his eyes.

This was going to be a long flight.

* * *

Limbo.

Arthur was going to kill Cobb.

The moment he left Fischer in the interrogation room, he grabbed Ariadne and found a more secluded part of the warehouse to say what he wanted to say.

"I can only shoot at anyone who wants to hurt you for two levels, so I'm going to put my trust in Cobb for the third level while I protect you all in the hotel. I knew I should have done more lessons on self defence in the dream."

Ariadne gripped him by the shoulders and forced him to look properly at her. "Arthur…"

He ran his fingers down a lock of her hair. "If something goes wrong, I want you to use your mazes. Hide. Run. Do _not_ get yourself shot, or I will be following you down into Limbo." He placed two fingers under her chin. "That's a promise."

He kissed her chastely on the forehead and gently pulled away. He could not lose focus now, not when Limbo was on the line and Fischer's mind had been trained to ward of extractors.

How could he have missed that fact? He couldn't miss anything, he was the Point Man. But he couldn't dwell on that now, they had dealt with this before, they would just have to upgrade the plan.

They both went their separate ways, he to check for projections, she to check on their tourist, Mr Saito.

He was clearly in pain. She tried to be a calm, distracting presence. However, Cobb decided to waltz over at that particular moment, and all her fury and rage came out at him, for landing them all in this mess.

And then she found out the truth about Mal.

"We have to move." Cobb informed her, as she stood shell-shocked.

He yanked the ski mask back on his head and marched to Fischer's room, Arthur in tow. Ariadne checked Saito's vitals, making him as comfortable as possible for the journey he was about to endure.

"The projections are closing in quick." Arthur reported in gravelly tones as Ariadne set up Fischer's tube for the dream and got herself settled into the van.

Her stomach gave a lurch as she heard gunfire and realised that Arthur was shooting at the projections. She tried not to let her discomfort show, but Eames glanced over and patted her shoulder.

"I'll go help our resident stick-in-the-mud. He never did have enough imagination to kill people efficiently."

She knew he was trying to help calm her down, but she just couldn't laugh at that.

A large explosion sounded only moments later, oddly putting her at ease.

They sped out of the warehouse. Typically, the team started arguing over the next move.

"I think we run with Mr Charles." Cobb stated like a seasoned chess player.

Arthur's mask of control slipped. "No."

Eames asked the question running through everyone's mind. "Who's Mr Charles?"

Arthur's intent gaze was focused on Cobb like a laser. "Bad idea."

Cobb refused to meet his eyes as he attempted to explain why.

Ariadne simply knew it couldn't be good. This was one of the few things that Arthur and Cobb had disagreed on, and anything they had disagreed on in the past had usually ended badly. If Arthur said it was too dangerous, it was too dangerous.

As Cobb urged Yusuf to drive safely, Arthur and Ariadne shared a look.

Yusuf activated the PASIV device.

* * *

Ariadne opened her eyes to the hotel she had designed for Arthur, and turned to find her inspiration seated next to her on a couch in the foyer.

"Hello."

"Hi there."

Arthur was like a tightly wound spring, ready to pounce on any one of the projections that did so much as breathe too close to them. His hand kept straying to the gun concealed in his jacket.

She understood why. The projections glared at them as they passed by, their eyes clearly stating a mantra of: "You shouldn't be here, you don't belong."

Arthur told her, in a very controlled voice, that he Mr Charles gambit would reveal the dream to Fischer, and his subconscious would hunt for the dreamer: himself.

"Fischer's subconscious is looking for the dreamer. For me." Arthur smirked.

"Quick, give me a kiss."

Ariadne complied without thought. After all, why would Arthur, of all people, not do anything related to the job?

But then she realised that it was _Arthur's_ lips against hers, and they were so soft and warm, and she knew that if they weren't in a dream she would be able to feel so much more, and smell the gun-aftershave-sunny scent that was completely him.

He pulled back and looked at her slyly. He must have been attempting to distract the projections. Job related. Of course.

"They're still looking at us," Ariadne stated, nervously looking around at the potentially deadly projections.

"Yeah, it was worth a shot." Ariadne could hear the suppressed chuckle in his voice, and knew she'd been tricked into a stolen kiss.

She caught his eye before he stood up, and a grin almost broke through on his blank face. She quirked an eyebrow before following him.

"Very unprofessional." She tsked, smiling while they waited for the elevator.

"I don't know what you mean. To what are you referring?" Arthur smoothed his tie, giving her an incredulous look that was ruined by the small smile on his face.

The elevator ride was spent in a silence. They were both reminiscing about the last time they had been in the elevator together.

Ariadne tried to focus on the job, failed, and then tried at least to breathe evenly. They had to plant bombs now. It was no opportunity to be distracted.

She listened like the good student she was as Arthur explained the explosives and his plan for their kick from the next dream. She tried not to notice how he looked as he stood on the bed and cabinet to position the explosives.

She agreed swiftly as Arthur suggested they take the stairs to the next floor. She couldn't get distracted by him now. She had Cobb's subconscious to worry about.

They had only just closed the stairwell door behind them when Fischer and Cobb walked out of the elevator. Fischer attempted a calm facade, but even Ariadne could see that underneath that, he was nervous and edgy. She was very painfully reminded of what they were doing. The mark was just a kid still.

As they prepared to enter the third dream, Arthur offered Ariadne the only chair in the room. She smiled, and rolled up her sleeve while he helped Eames.

"Security's gonna run you down hard." Eames smirked, and Arthur was reminded of their conversation in the airport hours ago. Had he seen the stolen kiss between Ariadne and him moments before? Arthur took one look at Eames' smug grin and knew that he had.

"And I will lead them on a merry chase." He quoted back to him, smirking slightly.

"Just be back before the kick." Eames chided. They had to get out of this alive.

Arthur stood up and touched Ariadne gently on the shoulder before ensuring Cobb was ready to go under. His friend was breaking under the pressure, his subconscious becoming more and more apparent in each level.

Arthur only hoped he wouldn't turn all their brains to scrambled egg. Because regardless of whether Cobb got back to his family or not, if Ariadne's sanity was compromised, Arthur was not going to restrain his temper.

* * *

**_Halfway there...  
Wish me luck!  
_****_Tell me how I'm going and your expectations. :)_**

**_Thank you!_**

**_Light-and-Smoke _**


	7. Everywhere and Nowhere

I do not own Inception. Or any of the lovely reviews you're sending in!

* * *

How do I drop you without gravity?

Arthur had really had enough of this job. He had been shot at, had to deal with more projections than usual thanks to the Mr Charles gambit, and had to deal with anti gravity from Yusuf's insane driving.

Ariadne's maze of hallways had saved him, and he had never worked with an architect that could create such believable paradoxes.

But now he had to deal with something that was very near impossible, like Inception. Now they had missed the first kick, how was he going to give them a kick without gravity?

He practically swam through the air, stacking up the team like dominos. He hated 'death by explosion', with all the lights and the sickening jolt that was accompanied by waves of sound and speed catching up with you. The shivers stayed with the dreamers long after they woke up. But he would get them out of this nightmarish dream somehow.

He waited the time out as calmly as he could, before igniting the explosives, sending his team members to the floor. He waited to see if any of his colleagues eyes would show so much as a flicker. Cobb. Eames. Even Saito. He kept his eyes on Ariadne's face, waiting to see her eyes flash open before the lift hit the bottom.

He saw her eyes, before he jolted into Yusuf's dream with a face full of water.

He glanced across to the vans occupants.

Fischer was just kicking himself out of the van, with Eames/Browning in tow.

Saito was floating, unblinking…dead.

Yusuf was just starting to take oxygen through his air supply.

Ariadne was just waking up.

Arthur mentally breathed a sigh of relief. He offered her the mask first, knowing that her lungs were smaller, she had just woken from her first three level dream into a watery conditions and, underlying it all, he cared for her wellbeing far more than his own.

He watched her face regain its composure before taking the line she offered him. He turned to Cobb, knowing that once he woke up, he would need the oxygen more than all of them.

Cobb wasn't awake.

Cobb wasn't waking up.

Ariadne shook his shoulder, trying to pull him with her out of the van, but he couldn't, he couldn't, he just _couldn't_ leave Dom.

But there was nothing he could do.

He swam to the surface, an adequate distance from Fischer and Eames, and clambered up the bank to Ariadne.

"What happened?"

Ariadne explained how Cobb had stayed in the third level to try and forgive Mal and find Saito. Arthur watched her pause over a few words. Limbo. Cobb. And third level. He knew something wasn't right.

"You went into Limbo with Cobb, didn't you?"

She looked at him, meeting his eyes for the first time since waking. He nodded, understanding just how fragile the situation was at the moment. He took her face between his large hands, his fierce eyes watching hers.

"Where are we?" He asked.

"In Yusuf's layer, the first layer of the dream heist. We're waiting for the kick up to the airplane, Saito's airplane."

"And who are you?"

"Ariadne Claire Mathews, 23-years-old. Living in Paris with one dog, Shire."

"And who am I?"

"Arthur Hale, 27-years-old. Living everywhere and nowhere."

Arthur heaved a sigh, letting his hands fall from his face. They sat still together in the rain for a while.

"You know I can't contact you for at least three weeks, Ri." Arthur stroked her hands with his, letting their fingers warm together.

"I know." She said quietly, closing her eyes. She was so _tired._

Time somehow warped, just the way Yusuf had intended it to, and the remaining time drifted through Fischer's last words to Eames.

When Ariadne opened her eyes again, she was on the plane. Arthur was winding up all the cables to the PASIV. Yusuf was getting up to go to the restroom. All the others were still asleep…or in a coma.

It hit Ariadne that this would be the only time for a month that she could see Arthur, or talk to him…

It might even be the last time they would ever see each other. Cobol might get to him. The Fischer-Morrow Company might get to them both.

She unbuckled her seat belt swiftly, rose up and strode to him. As he turned to face her, she grabbed his lapels without hesitation and pressed his lips against his.

She hadn't fully comprehended just how much the senses were numbed in a dream, but she swore she would not ever forget again. His lips melded against hers, his scent enveloped her like she had hoped it would, and the _taste_. He was like sunshine in a green meadow.

He deepened the kiss, clutching her face in his hands. She slipped a hand under his jacket to rest above his heart, feeling it begin to speed up under her palm.

A dry cough sounded, and the pair broke apart, irritated, to find a very amused Eames sitting up to look at them.

"Didn't chase too far, did you, Arthur?"

Ariadne raised an elegant eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Go back to sleep, Mr Eames." Arthur muttered, placing a hand over Ariadne on his chest.

"Will you go back to Paris?" He asked, his warm eyes connecting with hers.

"Yes. Straight away, if I can."

He nodded, daring to kiss her lips once more before slipping back to his seat. She did the same.

When Ariadne was buckled up and settled, she made eye contact with Eames across the cabin. He winked, and she smiled in response.

"_Et tu, _Eames?" She asked quickly, before they would part as strangers again. "Where will you go?"

"Oh, here, there, and everywhere. Anywhere that'll have me. I'll be in touch with Arthur, though. You too, when the time is right. Seems like I'll only need to make a call to one of you."

He grinned at her, and she rolled her eyes, smiling a small smile.

The three heard a big intake of breath, usually made by people who are about to wake, and in a matter of seconds, Fischer stretched and opened his eyes.

Ariadne made a point of looking out her window for a while. Had the idea been implanted properly? How would they know, till they were weeks away?

She rolled in her seat, discretely checking on Cobb. He really looked like a young father when he slept. It was the odd eternal eyes that made his age questionable. Ariadne thought of him fondly. He would always be her friend and mentor. As long as he got back to his kids, she didn't really care what happened.

So she breathed a quiet sigh of relief as his eyes flickered open, looking to her and Arthur in astonishment. Ariadne saw Saito's head move in the seat in front of her, and heard him make a phone call.

Cobb was safe.

They had pulled off the heist.

She so very badly wanted to turn and see Arthur, but she knew that was a very stupid idea. She held her control.

They descended into the States smoothly, and began to disembark as strangers.

As Ariadne bent to retrieve her little black note bag, a well-known hand tapped her shoulder.

"You dropped this." Arthur said, his voice devoid of any emotion.

Ariadne turned without a smile, accepting the foreign piece of paper he offered to her.

"Thanks." She nodded, and went on her way, vowing to read whatever it said at the soonest opportunity.

As Ariadne approached customs, she watched, proud as anything, as Cobb was welcomed back into the states and whisked away by Professor Miles. Phillipa and James must have missed him. Would Ariadne ever see him again? No, that wasn't even the right question. She _would _see him again, with his children. She would make sure of it.

Ariadne very nearly missed Arthurs departure as she went off to book a flight to Paris. She felt silly, torn between remorse at seeing his retreating back, and the longing of merely seeing him. She was ridiculously attached to him. Once she had stopped denying her feelings, they had taken over her. Last time that had happened, it very nearly consumed her.

She couldn't let that happen again. They were just as much in a game as they had been when they first met. And she couldn't afford to lose that game.

Ariadne caught Arthur's eye for a second in the crowd…and then he was gone.

* * *

**_A short chapter to finish...  
Will they end up getting together?  
Well how should I know? :P mwahaha. _**

**_I'll be updating as soon as possible, though that might also depend on what everyone thinks of how this is going and where it is headed._**

**_Thank you to everyone!_**

**_Light-and-Smoke_**


	8. Sneaky Tricks

I don't own Inception. And though I love my own dog, Lilli, I kinda wish I owned Shire.  
But sadly, I don't own him either.

* * *

That had been the last she'd seen of him.

Two weeks and three days later she thought she might combust. Life was so _dull_. How had she not noticed this before? And the worst part was waiting. Not only could she not contact Arthur – Eames was gone too. And Cobb. She even missed the quiet, shy Yusuf, and the studious, intimidating Saito.

The note from Arthur sat on her kitchen bench, flat and lifeless from the amount of times it had been read, scrunched in frustration, unfolded to read again, ran over by her hands, over his small neat handwriting, so very unlike her own chicken scratch notes.

_Saito will wire direct. Don't look for us, we'll look for you. Remember your totem.  
Don't think about me. Or elephants._

Of course, she'd tried not to think about either. And failed. He knew her, he knew that was a cruel, sneaky trick. She'd get back at him for that.

She shook out her thoughts, deciding it was time to walk Shire.

Shire was an smiling, adorable spaniel, only a year old. He always seemed to be smiling, so she had named him after the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland.

Ariadne had always loved that story. It was her childhood tale, just as much as any of the other fairytales. She had made her totem's connection there. She could play a small part in the story, in a world created from mad dreams that defied logic and reality. And what better piece than one that moved in a completely different direction across the board?

Her father had known how in love she was with the concept of that chess piece, and had given her the gold bishop for her 17th birthday. She had left the inscription on the bottom of her totem; she couldn't bear to remove it.

_My darling girl. A gift to enable you to move differently in a crowd, in life. Love, always._

It was yet another thing that tied her to reality. Just like she had Arthur to tie her firmly to reality after Inception.

She winced at that. It was a rookie mistake. After dealing with Cobb's issues, she should have known to avoid it.

Shire danced in circles at the sight of his leash. After a quick glance out the window, Ariadne grabbed a knitted scarf and beret before heading outside. Shire gently but surely lead her down the stairs and out the front door of the apartment block. He halted as they stepped onto the cobblestone streets, sniffing left and right before heading off to the right.

Ariadne wasn't particularly fussed with the direction. It was Shires walk. She was just out here to remind him that he had a home to come back to.

She felt the cold nip at her fingertips. Gloves. She always forgot gloves. Ariadne buried her hands in her pockets. But then the wind picked at her scarf, fluttering it like a fan and threatening to fling it off her neck.

She was about to resign herself to a grumpy mood when she saw someone that made her stop dead in her tracks.

Someone that did not belong on her bourgeois walk.

Someone she was certainly not expecting.

Arthur stood a few steps ahead of her, certainly not as shocked as she was, but still surprised. Shire stopped as well, sensing the change in his mistress's attitude. Arthur walked towards her.

"Hello."

"Hi there."

"I was just on my way to your place." He admitted, standing almost toe to toe with her and took hold of the ends of her scarf. He tied it into place to stop the winds antics, and gazed down at her.

"What about the three week rule?"

"Couldn't wait." He smirked. God, she'd missed that.

"Good." She enthused. Ariadne caught his hand to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. Solid. Real. Calluses on the palm and fingers from guns and a dangerous lifestyle. She shivered.

Arthur puller her closer, tucking her into his open coat, either accidentally or purposefully mistaking her shakes as chill. He waited for her to raise her eyes back to his before letting a proper smile appear.

A bizarre tugging sensation brought her back to reality again. Shire was jumping up to rest his forelegs on her knees, inquisitive.

"Ah. This is my protector, Shire. You'll have to forgive him, he's far too inquisitive."

Arthur surprised her by kneeling down and allowing Shire to sniff his hand before ruffling his ears with tenderness.

"I haven't seen one of these since I was sixteen. My grandparents used to own quite a few dogs."

He stood up and caught her eye. "Shall we?"

Arthur offered Ariadne his arm and they continued.

* * *

It was very simple from there to invite him back to the apartment. She thanked god that she had been restless enough to clean up only a few days ago. She lead the way in, unclipping Shires leash and flicking over the upright gold bishop sitting on the kitchen counter.

Arthur took a moment by the door, regarding the peculiar layout of the apartment.

Ariadne looked back and smiled. "Like it?"

The hallway from the door ran straight across to the other wall and tiny window, looking out over the rooftops of some of the surrounding buildings. After two feet of wall on the right, it opened up to a living room and small dining area. The windows showed the surrounding streets.

The corridor restarted after a few more steps, opening on the right to the bedroom, and on the left to a study and bathroom. The kitchen was half hidden by walls, leaving a small expanse of counter to peek out.

But the kitchen window was the best display. Clearly distinctive in the distance, at least 2 miles away, was the Tour de Eiffel. Arthur leaned on the counter, taking in the view of the structure that towered over the quaint buildings of Paris.

"Its nice, isn't it? Its one of the reasons I rent this place." Ariadne ran a fond hand over the wallpaper, an intricate design that resembled vines loosely climbing the walls towards the simple white trimming. "The wallpapers another reason. I really feel like I'm in another world sometimes. Suppose that's why I like dreaming so much." She caught his eye. "What about you?"

He sighed, running a hand through his perfectly smooth hair. "This is going to sound bad, but I like the control of it all. The fact that its your environment, and, depending on your own self control, you can make it a pure dream…or a nightmare."

"What are your nightmares?"

Arthur looked up at her slowly, and she realised what she had asked was way too personal for their current relationship. "Sorry. Forget that I asked."

She had pushed Cobb way too far on his personal meter, she knew she had the ability to do that, but that was for an entirely different purpose. She wouldn't push Arthur, she didn't want to or need to.

Ariadne shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Tea?"

"Please." She turned the kettle on and put some tea leaves in a draining pot.

"Tea leaves?" Arthur asked, incredulous. Ariadne laughed.

"My mum told me it was the only way to make it. Believe me, after a cup of my homebrewed tea, you'll change your mind."

Ariadne turned to get cups, not realising there was someone behind her. She bumped into a large, warm, suited chest.

Arthur placed the mugs either side of her, trapping her against the counter as his body made a cage around her.

"Hello."

"Hi there."

She hadn't seen him like this, not all at once. The purposeful show of force and structure, the smirk, the mesmerising dark fire in his eyes, they all took on a completely different meaning both together and apart.

Ariadne decided this look would go into at least the top ten Arthur looks, if not the top three. She was on fire just from the way he looked at her. She couldn't believe she hadn't been burnt to cinders already.

He leaned in closer to her, and she was suddenly very nervous.

"You know," He murmured, his voice as collected as ever. "We haven't exactly been exactly logical about this."

"H-how do you mean?"

"Well, for starters, we didn't meet in the most normal circumstances, or court each other."

Ariadne grinned. Only Arthur would use a word like 'court' so naturally.

"If you haven't noticed, we aren't the most normal people, Arthur."

He raised an eyebrow. "What I'm trying to do is ask you on a date."

"Then ask already."

Arthur was getting slightly worked up by her teasing. She chuckled, rubbing his forearms soothingly.

"Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?"

"Of course." Ariadne smiled, stretching onto tiptoe to meet his lips. He backed away slightly before she could get too close, smirking.

"Good, then. I'll pick you up at six. Sorry about the tea. Perhaps some other time." He put one mug back in the cupboard, nodded to her with that same wicked smirk on his lips, and let himself out the door.

That was the second dirty trick she had let him get away with. Ariadne vowed to be just as sneaky.

* * *

**_Hello_**

**_Thank you to the reviews! I never thought I'd reach ten, let alone fifty.  
And I also never thought this would get any interest at all.  
Tell me how much you like it, or how much you dislike it. _**

**_Thanks,  
Light-and-Smoke _**


	9. Sweet Dreams

I do not own Inception. And I wish I owned this date in my lifetime.

* * *

Ariadne stood in front of her wardrobe, mildly panicked.

It was just a date with Arthur.

Just.

A date.

With Arthur.

A first date, technically. But they had known each other for months But this would be his first impression of her in a dress, well, a dress in reality. But he wouldn't care. Would he?

Ariadne thought about his suits. He seemed to think appearances spoke about lots about a person. His suits were a reflection of his clear, precise nature, just as much as Eames' lack of care for his outer garments showed his disregard for social expectations and appearances.

So what did Ariadne's clothes say about her? Worse, what should they say about tonight?

She sighed. She was reading way too far into this small dilemma.

Ariadne rummaged through coat hangers and pulled out a purple silk dress with a simple flowing cut that ended just above the knee. She tilted her head to the side, regarded it, and smiled.

Once she had donned it and fixed her hair so it hung in curly tendrils down her back, she went to the hanger behind the door and picked out a light, pale gold, ethereal-looking scarf that was big enough to be considered a shawl.

Small heels; she didn't trust herself with too much height, and a tiny dab of perfume on her wrists, and she was ready.

She set Shire down with a treat to keep him occupied.

A knock sounded, and Ariadne went to open the door, checking through the peep-hole to see whether it was Arthur.

It was.

She opened the door with a smile.

"Hello."

"Hi there. Come in, I wont be a minute."

Ariadne decided to begin her small suggestions, backtracking to the bedroom.

"Just hold on. You took me by surprise."

Arthur followed the sound of her voice. "No problem."

The words died as soon as they left his mouth when he caught sight of what she was adding to her outfit: sheer stockings. Ariadne looked up at him innocently.

"My legs get cold."

"So stockings are the perfect solution." Somehow he sounded both ironic and restrained.

Ariadne smirked, letting her dress fall back down the 2 inches she had hiked it up to adjust the stockings.

* * *

Arthur hadn't informed her where he would be taking her out that evening, but when he held the door of his car open for her, she spied her first clue.

"A picnic basket? I'm intrigued."

"So you should be." Arthur replied, starting the car.

"So can I know where we're going?"

"No."

Arthur smirked at her expression "It would take away the intrigue."

"I think not."

Arthur found an excuse to make contact with her, reaching over to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "And I think so. Lets agree to disagree."

He was very persuasive. Ariadne was so very interested in him, but she couldn't get swept away by that. He probably was treating this much more casually than she was. She always did that though.

Ariadne didn't let her mind wander too far bringing it back just as the car turned into a parking spot on an unknown street.

Arthur was out and around to her side before she could protest, and they walked along the sidewalk towards some destination, the picnic basket in between them.

"Have you spoken to Cobb?" Ariadne asked, knowing he would have set up some form of enemy-proof line of communication between them after all these years.

Arthur nodded. "He's back with his kids now. He spoke to me for an hour about Phillipa's ballet and James' first year in kinder. He told me to tell you hello, and that he'll call you once the three weeks are over."

"He knew you were coming to see me?"

Arthur smirked "He guessed."

Ariadne unleashed a small smile. "Oh."

Arthur shot her a soft look that was gone too fast for her to interpret, and directed her through the gates.

"Parc de la Villette?" Ariadne spotted a section of grass where couples were converging and a big white canvas screen was being set up.

"Open Air Cinema." Arthur announced, glancing sideways at her. "Surprised?"

"Very pleasantly." Ariadne mused happily. She hated clichés, and the movie-date concept was just as old as movies themselves. So many potential relationships had ended after the first date because the boys she knew had decided to pull this one out.

But Arthur, as usual, had put a slightly more creative spin on things. He had taken her to the Open Air Cinema at the Parc de la Villette. Of course.

Placing a hand on the small of her back, Arthur directed Ariadne to a space and set down the basket, producing a picnic rug. He gestured for her to have a seat, while he rummaged around in the basket for other items. He took out a round container of quiche, two plastic glasses, a container of salad, two plastic plates…

"Did you steal Mary Poppin's bag?" Ariadne asked, earning a chuckle from Arthur.

He took out one last item, a bottle of Italian wine. It was the same brand from the dream. Ariadne helped him set up their outdoor dinner while he poured the wine and set both glasses on the flat surface of a container. He then handed one to her and clinked glasses.

"Never thought we'd get here." Arthur admitted.

"I'm glad we did." Ariadne confessed, having to look away from his heated gaze once more. They dug into their meal.

"Did you make this?"

"Well, I can cook, but no, I bought it. The salad, however, I did make."

"Because salad takes real talent." Ariadne teased.

"Don't laugh. I know someone who cut themselves while trying to prepare salad."

"Who?"

"Eames. While trying to impress a girl."

"Of course. How is he?"

"I'm expecting to hear from him sometime next week."

Ariadne nodded, recalling their last conversation on the plane. She changed the topic before they could continue down that track, so as to not be awkward.

The pair fell back into the same easy relationship they'd had before, only this time, Arthur wasn't intently focused on maintaining professional ties, and Ariadne wasn't denying her feelings.

Ariadne forgot all about the park and film until the advertisments began to flash across the make-shift screen.

"I hadn't even asked – whats the name of the movie?"

"Rear Window." Arthur seemed impressed by the recognition in her eyes.

"You've seen it before?"

"Only once, when I was in middleschool I think. My mum loves Alfred Hitchcock movies."

Arthur reached into the bottomless basket one more time, pulling out a blanket.

"For your cold legs." He smirked, raising an eyebrow.

Fighting her more bashful side, Ariadne returned his seductive grin, settling down with the blanket and leaving enough for him to use if he wanted.

An open ended invitation.

When she looked back up at Arthur, he was gazing at ler with that hungry dark fire again. It made her insides twist, and sent energy shooting through her. She so very badly wanted to end all the waiting and anticipation…but she knew better than that. She had to pull the same tricks on him.

So she held his gaze, biting her lip to remind herself.

The movie started, and Ariadne, ever competitive, made sure Arthur was the first to break the electric gaze and glance at the screen.

The pair watched the life of Jeff and Lisa play out on the screen.

Ariadne kept an eye out for Hitchcock's signature cameo appearance, and whispered it to Arthur when she spotted him. She took her damn time doing it too, letting her breath hit his ear softly. When she sat back to keep watching, she gleefully noted that he seemed affected.

However, it was difficult to concentrate back on the story. The air between them was so charged, she seemed aware of every breath he took. They were practically reclining side by side on the picnic rug, propped up by their elbows and cushions. She could feel his body heat from her position, smell his scent that she had missed so much…

When Lisa snuck across to Thorwald's apartment, Ariadne rolled into Arthur so she couldn't see the screen. Hitchcock was to blame, with all his suspense and terror. He was a master. Ariadne couldn't watch.

She heard Arthur chuckle, and felt his arm wrap around her comfortingly. Even when he whispered in her ear that she could watch again, she stayed nestled against him. He made no move to let her go.

When the credits began to roll at the end of the movie, Ariadne decided to move from her comfortable position. She looked up at him, placed a hand on his chest just like she had on the plane, and gently pushed herself away.

This action also caused Arthur to roll over onto his back, so Ariadne was momentarily hovering over him, hand on his chest.

They locked eyes again, and Ariadne was burnt to cinders.

"Nice movie," She commented, trying to distract herself for as long as possible. She had to win this odd dance of anticipation. "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure." His voice had turned so sensual; she had to get some distance before she self-combusted.

Ariadne moved to get up, placing a hand on either side of his head and momentarily pinning him to the ground before she was far above him, wondering how to make a better move, like chess.

Arthur followed, just as smoothly, quickly packing away everything into the infamous basket and offering her his arm to walk back through the night. She pressed very slightly against him, using the oddly cool night to her advantage.

They talked pleasantly about the movie, anything to distract from what was happening, and what awaited them when he dropped her off.

As they walked up the stairs, the conversation paused.

"I never told you how beautiful you look tonight." Arthur admitted.

"No. You didn't" Ariadne laughed.

"Well, first off I thought that was far too cheesy. An you know you look beautiful every day."

"Okay, that was cheesy."

"It was meant to be sincere."

"Well you'll have to try harder."

They stopped by her door and turned to face each other.

Arthur ran a finger along one side of her jaw. "You are stunning."

Ariadne made a face like she was considering it. "No."

"Incredible?"

"Still too much."

He backed her up smoothly so she was against the door and they were toe to toe.

"Ravishing."

"No."

"How about in another language? _Tu est enchanteresse_."

"Too cheesy."

"_Bella signora_?"

"No." She was laughing quietly now. He joined her smile.

"You're just Ariadne."

"And you're just Arthur."

"Works for me."

That fire, that damned inescapable fire had returned to his eyes again. It sank into Ariadne's mind that she was being pressed against her door by Arthur, the relaxed, hungry Arthur that she hadn't yet had the privilege to know.

They were so close, inches apart. Ariadne was waiting, eyes locked with his, waiting for a kiss that wasn't going to arrive, not yet.

They were breathing the same air now, his heat burning her, and their faces nearly touching. They were stuck in that moment before the kiss, in that moment of anticipation.

Ariadne closed her eyes, it was so unbearable. She knew she wouldn't give in and kiss him, not tonight. She had known that all along. But she could so very easily change that right now. She had a feeling that Arthur was thinking the same thing.

"You…want to come in for some coffee?" She asked, her voice husky, her eyes still closed.

"No, thank you." Arthur replied, sounding just as affected.

"I still owe you tea." Ariadne gave a half smile.

"I don't think that's a good idea tonight." He whispered, before backing away.

She opened her eyes slowly, still against the door.

Arthur smirked, and nodded. "Goodnight."

"Night." Ariadne murmured, somehow unlocking the door without messing up her keys. As she went to open the door, Arthur's voice came back.

"Ariadne?"

She turned, and was an inch away from Arthur again. He leaned in so his mouth just brushed her ear.

"Sweet dreams." He murmured, before turning again and descending the stairs.

He knew that was a very dirty, sneaky trick. But she couldn't care less.

She was looking forward to the next one already.

* * *

**_Sorry everyone, I know I kept you waiting.  
Lets just call it writers block and hopefully move on sooner!  
_****_If you have any ideas about things they can do, apart from the most obvious that they are both trying to put off for as long as possible right now, then talk to me :P_**

**_Thanks,  
_****_Light-and-Smoke _**


	10. Professional vs Reality

I do not own Inception, just a rice cooker.

* * *

Ariadne was very lucky.

She didn't need to wait around the apartment all day for the next call from Arthur, or the appropriate time to call him back.

He had set that up craftily too. She couldn't call him; she didn't know which hotel he was staying at…he was the invisible man.

But either way, Ariadne was still lucky not to be in the apartment all day. She was finalizing her last assignment for her course. After that, she would have completed the course, and only had to wait for the graduation ceremony.

And then what? Extraction? Architecture in reality of the dream world? She had no idea. And that was daunting and exciting.

* * *

Arthur was lucky. He fought the urge to call her all day, giving in at around seven.

"Hello?"

"Ariadne."

"Arthur?"

She sounded pleased. And how did she know it was him after one word?

"Ariadne."

"Arthur." She had a laugh hidden in her voice now. They could have easily kept repeating each other's names, but Arthur was better than that.

"How was your day?" He made a face. Why couldn't he come up with a better question?

"Just hold on a moment, I'm about to feed Shire. Sit. Siiiit. Good boy."

A hollow metal sound rang out as she presumably put the bowl down.

She exhaled. "Alright. Well, I finished my course work today."

"Wow. That's great." Arthur tried to sound more enthusiastic, but an uneasy feeling was gathering in his stomach. He hadn't expected her to finish so soon. She was going to want to jump into the Extraction business. He knew it was an irrational thought, and he was being slightly hypocritical, but the reason why their business was embodied majorly by men was because it was a brutal, dangerous industry. He knew she might be strong enough for the mentality of it all, but the whole 'kill or be killed' lifestyle might be too much for her.

And then there was the part that he was more concerned about, putting her in the face of danger. He didn't want to do that to her. This career choice had turned them all into different men. And they were always hunted down. He couldn't go back to some countries now, simply because he'd pissed off the wrong people. She deserved a normal life. But even he couldn't give her that now; he didn't lead a normal life. But he couldn't stay away.

"Hello? Have I lost you?"

Ariadne's voice brought him back form his thoughts.

"Sorry, I was musing."

"Musing about…what?"

He heard the blatant curiosity in her voice and smiled.

"Nothing in particular."

Her silence told him he was being given a look.

"Well, nothing I could explain over the phone." He took a breath. "You busy tomorrow?"

"From about five-thirty onwards I'm free."

"Then how about I come over at six-thirty. Or perhaps leave it for another day." Ever the gentleman, he was trying not to impose.

Ariadne chuckled. "Come over at six. Please."

He had a feeling she was playing the same tricks on him that he had been pulling on her. Something about the words six and please put together. The plea was slightly suggestive. Not that he was complaining.

"If you insist."

"Yes."

"Well then I will see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Ariadne."

"Night, Arthur."

* * *

He was there promptly at six. Of course. Thankfully, she was ready.

She opened the door to his typical suit again, and smiled.

"Hello."

"Hi there. Come in."

Ariadne let him pass, ignoring the sudden want to reach out and have some sort of physical contact with him. She sat down at the kitchen bench, while Arthur was greeted by Shire.

He looked good.

She couldn't help but reflect on the last time they had seen each other, and the same feelings of desire and anticipation were creeping up again…She tried to stomp them out. Distraction. Something nice and simple.

"How are you?"

"Good. Nothing new."

In her Arthur-dictionary, that meant work.

"No new extraction jobs, huh?"

He glanced at her sharply. "No…"

Ariadne could sense that she'd touched another nerve. Was this what he had been musing about yesterday? She tried to move past it.

"Tea? I still owe you."

Arthur gave a faint smile. "Thank you."

"And stay on that side of the counter, or I wont be able to think."

She flitted around the kitchen, grabbing the mugs herself this time.

"So…what I was going to say yesterday…" Arthur exhaled, uncertain. "Ariadne."

She placed the kettle down to boil and looked at him.

"What are you planning on doing now? After your degree."

She thought his words and her own through before responding.

"I don't know."

She knew what he was worried about, and he knew she knew what he was worried about, and she knew he knew she knew what he was worried about.

"I don't think you should do any extractions."

"Okay."

Arthur looked her straight in the eye, knowing she'd already found the loophole in his words.

"That also means planning and building in any extractions."

"Perhaps I won't."

He looked a little more dangerous now. "Why perhaps?"

Ariadne didn't think the words through.

"Well, you _did_ say you don't think I should…but I still can – "

"Ariadne…"

His tone should have warned her.

"Well, really, what's so bad about it? You do it, Eames does it, Cobb did – "

"And look where that got him. And Mal as well. You know – "

"You don't think I'm strong enough, is that it? Do you really think – "

"It's too dangerous. You – "

"I what? Can't protect myself? I – "

"I can't protect you, and I'm not strong enough."

Arthur's confession brought silence.

They stared each other down, leaning against either side of the counter. Ariadne's eyes prompted Arthur to continue.

"It has nothing to do with your strength. This s a dangerous world you're getting yourself into, Ariadne. It's hard enough for me to imagine protecting you. What would happen if you were in real danger? You're someone I care about. I'm not strong enough to keep you safe."

Ariadne knew that at least a small part of her should be mindful about the fact that he thought she couldn't protect herself. However, she really didn't care too much about that. He was trying to protect her. He cared about her. It was more than anyone else had offered her.

"You don't have to be strong enough by yourself, Arthur." She said gently. "We can work together. And I don't know if I should or shouldn't join the extraction world. I technically haven't even graduated yet. And when I decide, I'll factor everything in. But to work, to do something we both love, and see you every day…"

The kettle whistled. She sighed, and went to move it.

Arthur took a deep breath and sat down. He could have dealt with that better.

Ariadne prepared the tea and mugs and set one down in front of Arthur, keeping the other for herself.

The sight of it made him smile. Of course she would remember how he drank his tea or coffee at work, black with one sugar. He looked up to catch her eye, but she was modestly looking at her shoes, the frayed cuffs of her jeans, the swirl of steam rising from her mug.

"Thank you." He murmured, taking a sip. "You were right – this is good."

"I am right, sometimes." She smiled with one corner of her mouth, tracing the rim of the mug with her fingers.

"You're almost always right." He paused, catching her gaze before continuing. "Almost."

They shared a smile.

"So what did you want to do tonight?" Ariadne mentally winced after the words left her mouth. She prayed he would only think of the dinner part and not any other possible references there.

She took one look at his eyes and knew what he was thinking, and that he knew she knew what he was thinking. A sly smirk appeared on his face, and she could feel her cheeks warm slightly.

She took a sip of her tea and licked her lips, waiting for him to respond.

"If you have any other plans, I can leave now." Arthur offered purposefully misinterpreting her words.

"Likewise for you. I was just going to make stir-fry."

"Sounds delicious." He said that word too well.

"Well if you don't have any other plans, you might as well help me." She grinned, hopping off her chair and turning the television onto the news, low volume for background noise. Shire knocked his head against the tops of her knees.

"Ah. But first the prince must be fed."

"Sorry?" Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Shire. He's so pampered and spoilt, I'm his maid." She flourished a curtsey to the indignant, smiling dog, and Arthur laughed, properly.

Ariadne prepared and set down Shire's dinner, and was washing her hands in the sink when her ears caught a familiar name.

"Arthur, can you turn up…" She went round the wall and counter to find Arthur predicting her request already.

Sure enough, there was Robert Fischer, in a pre-filmed press conference. They couldn't hear his voice, but the reporter was stating clearly that the Fischer-Morrow Empire was being dissolved respectfully.

Browning appeared on the screen, not looking too pleased despite the reporters claim that he had received a reasonable profit from the fall out.

To cap off the short report, Saito appeared next. The reporter asked him what he thought about his main competitors unpredicted move. He bowed his head respectfully and wished good fortune and a good future for Robert Fischer, and he seemed sincere. Limbo would do strange things to a mans mind.

The news moved on to a report about the weather for the next week, and Arthur and Ariadne stood silent.

"It worked." Ariadne said, dumbfounded.

"It did." He agreed.

Silence fell, and Ariadne opened her mouth to speak, but the sound of a ringing phone cut her off. Arthur pulled out his phone apologetically.

"It's Cobb."

She nodded for him to take the call, and Arthur pressed the receive button on the phone and the power off for the television simultaneously.

"Yes. I know. We were just watching."

Ariadne watched his face turn stony and professional in response to something Cobb said.

"Of course. What else do you think –?"

He paused, glancing at Ariadne, apologetic. He went towards the front door to take the call outside.

She nodded, turning back to the kitchen. If she didn't talk to Cobb next week, she'd make a fuss then. Arthur was talking to him about a personal matter. She kept prying when she didn't intend to with Arthur, and she wanted to back off in that area.

She turned the radio onto a station playing some soft café music. She sliced up the vegetables and put rice in the rice cooker her mother had insisted she have since it meant she had no excuse not to have a meal. She had just finished the ginger soy sauce she'd mixed to cook with when she sensed Arthur lean against the counter to her right.

"Looks good."

"Only cause you left all the work up to me." Ariadne teased, glancing over to him.

Oh dear.

He'd taken off his suit jacket. He didn't have a vest today. Or a sweater. Only a shirt and tie.

She didn't stand a chance.

He smirked, backing her into the bench again. "I can make it up to you."

Fire. Dark brown-eyed fire.

If he came any closer, she would burst into flames. If he stayed where he was, she would be frustrated. If he stepped back, she would be furious.

She closed her eyes, more than slightly overwhelmed. Surely he could see this as an invitation.

The moment didn't pass; it lengthened and tripled in intensity.

Ariadne opened her eyes and saw Arthur, just an inch away like he had been before, watching her through hungry eyes with a smirk on his lips.

"I swear, Arthur, if you don't kiss me now – "

She didn't finish her threat; they both leaned that fraction forward and met in the middle.

Ariadne knew they had waited too long. They were too consumed. In a matter of moments, Arthur had hoisted her onto the counter, clearing it slightly haphazardly with a sweep of his arm. Nothing had dropped to the floor – yet. Not that either of them would have noticed or cared.

Ariadne knew they should stop when she realized just how tightly her legs were wrapped around Arthur's hips.

"We should stop."

"We should stop."

Somehow, neither of them sounded convinced, but they pulled their heads back to look at each other properly and share a small smile.

"You took your time."

"I always take my time. I take a long time." Arthurs smile turned into a grin.

"We'll test that out sometime."

The rice cooker flicked from cook to warm in the corner.

"Are you going to let me down to make dinner?"

Arthur exhaled, lifting her easily from the counter and waiting for her to uncoil her legs before setting her down so they were still against each other. They shared a long look. The fire wasn't extinguished. It had doubled, reflected in both their eyes now.

They somehow both cooked the meal without losing any fingers, and curled up informally on either end of the couch. It was the most relaxed Ariadne had ever seen Arthur, even after their trip to the Parc de la Villette.

Their feet tangled together as they talked about the most innocent topics, until Shire came and jealously sat on their feet, in between the pair.

Ariadne reached for a brush on the end table and groomed Shire's lovely hair as they continued to talk.

Arthur was struck by the domesticity of the scene. He was even more surprised by his response to it. He liked it, he longed for it. He caught Ariadne's soft look towards him and knew that his response was mainly because of her.

Much later, he checked his watch and realized it was quarter past midnight.

"I've kept you up." He apologized, attempting to extract his feet gently from under a sleeping Shire.

"I was hoping you would." Ariadne replied, groggy but still cheeky.

She tilted her head back over the sofa arm and watched upside-down as he put the dishes in the sink and collected his jacket.

"Stay the night." She suggested.

Arthur came over to look at her.

"As tempting as that offer is, I shouldn't. What will the neighbors think? I have to uphold your reputation."

"The neighbors will be happy that I've met a very nice man."

"Perhaps another night, Ri. I'll come over tomorrow."

"Later today, you mean."

"Don't be smart."

"I was being logical."

He leaned down to kiss her goodnight, but it took longer than he expected.

"Goodnight."

"Night." She replied, a little breathlessly.

"Sweet dreams." He whispered, brushing one last kiss upon her lips before making his exit.

* * *

**_Hey!_**

**_Personally, I like the end much more than the beginning. It seems to flow better when they're together. :)  
Comments, queries, concerns, happy things? If you have anything to say, please write a review :)_**

**_Thanks,  
Light-and-Smoke _**


	11. Moments

I do not own Inception. Or time management skills.

* * *

Ariadne woke up several hours later to the sound of her phone ringing. At first she thought it might have been Arthur. However, she was almost as delighted when she found out the callers identity.

"Hello?"

"Hello, darling."

"_Eames!_"

"Of course! Who else would it be? Oh, wait, don't tell me, your Artie-lover-boy."

"He's not my lover boy, not yet at least."

"I take it you're very near content, apart from that minor problem?"

"Yes. And how are you?"

"Fit as a fiddle. And playing a few as well."

"…I'm going to translate that as 'you've been sleeping around'?"

"Not sleeping around, dear, that's too crass. Just visiting a few ladies in my little black book, adding a couple of names…"

"You won't ever settle down, will you?"

"Doubtful."

"I'll make you see the light someday. Are you allowed to say where you are now?"

"Probably not best, darling. You might see me sometime. I just wont say when."

"Not fair."

"Aw. Do you miss me?"

"_Yes._"

"Careful, love. If Arthur hears that, he might get jealous."

"I doubt that."

"What? Are my devilishly good looks and charm not enough for you?"

"Aw, _darling_. You're more than enough for any girl. But Arthur fits the bill perfectly for me."

"Well look at you, all loved up. Apart from that glitch you mentioned earlier."

"Arthur's a guy who just likes to…take his time."

"Oh, lovely, dear. But if you haven't noticed, in our industry, you need to move fast. Cause there's always someone who's painting a target on your arse."

"Thanks, Eames. Not like I had enough to ponder."

"Pleasure. Call me anytime you need more thoughts…or have a single friend for me."

"Goodbye, Eames."

"Later, ducky. Give my regards to Arthur."

* * *

Arthur came over in time for Ariadne and Shire's weekly walk at the Promenade Plantée. As they walked arm-in-arm-holding-leash along the replanted old viaduct, the noise of Paris faded away to a calm, peaceful quiet.

"Why the Promenade?" Arthur asked, looking at Ariadne from the corner of his eye.

She shrugged. "My great aunt used to live in an apartment nearby. She was one of the reasons I moved to Paris to do my degree. She'd walk here every day."

Ariadne inhaled through her nose, savouring the scent of lavender, rose, and the chicken roasting in one of the apartments overhanging the tree-filled sanctuary.

"You don't see this anywhere else. It's so unique, and wonderful. It helps me think."

"I can see why."

The Promenade was a wonderful concrete walkway that wound through the heart of Paris. It used to be a disused rainway line along a viaduct, only it had been converted into an elevated walkway. The cars were only a story below, but they could have been miles away for all the sound they made. The path was surrounded by trees and flowers and intricate little walkways and secluded benches veered off the path.

The buildings around them were just as interesting. Apartment blocks were inches away from the edge of the path, sometimes using the railing as part of their fence design. Small architectural details like decorative moldings and elaborate wrought-iron balconies passed them by, but Ariadne waited to point out her favorite attraction of the Promenade. The police station at the end of the Avenue Daumesnil was decorated with sculpture of caryatids, each modestly covered, each with a portion of stone cut out of their chest. If you saw them in a line, you could see all the way through to the other side.

Arthur was fairly certain this was a dream. The weight of his totem told him otherwise. How had he never discovered this side of Paris before, a place above the noise and crowd of the streets?

They sat on a bench in one of the shaded little alcoves.

"So anyway, your great aunt story. What happened?" Arthur hoped he wasn't crossing a line by asking.

"She was good, but she was in her seventies. She'd smoked all her life, 'like all Parisian women'." She quoted in what Arthur guessed was a manner like her great aunt's.

"So I lived with her for almost two years. But then she got sick. And then she got very sick. And she just didn't want to stay that way. So she asked my parents to pull the plug. We were all the family she had left."

Arthur's arm held tight around her supportively, never faltering.

"Anyway, so then I went and rented the apartment I have now. She'd left most of her money to me, you see. And I couldn't live in her old apartment without her. It even smelt like her, she'd smoked there for so long."

She stroked one of Shire's silky ears. "Then I got Shire. He helped me out, gave me something real to focus on, you know."

Arthur knew.

He let her sit for a moment before pressing a kiss to her temple.

"How long did you know her for?"

"Since I turned ten. My parents took me over here to visit my great aunt, and I had my tenth birthday here. I fell in love with Paris, with France, with the atmosphere and pretty streets."

She heaved a sigh, nestling ever so slightly into Arthur's embrace.

"We kept visiting her over the years, and once I knew what I wanted to do, she persuaded me to study here. She was strong like that."

"She sounds like you."

Ariadne smiled into his chest. "You think so?"

"Yes."

"Hmm…"

Shire pawed their legs, grumbling about his short walk.

"Alright, you spoilt dog." Ariadne said, tugging Arthur up and linking her fingers through the gaps of his.

Ariadne almost asked Arthur about his own family seven times. And every time she thought the better of it. Was she scared? No. Was she a little apprehensive? …Maybe.

Either way, she wouldn't ask till the time was right. Arthur had something in his past that was clearly very difficult for him to say. It wasn't something he told many people. And it wasn't something he even mentioned in conversation. The few times he'd let his past slip through were all with her, so she knew that when he was completely comfortable, he'd tell her. And unless it was a tale of his guilt because he was married, she didn't care what it was.

When he was ready, she'd listen.

Ariadne pondered on this as she multitasked, biting into an apple while throwing the ball for Shire to chase in one of the Promenades many adjoining parks.

Arthur sat on the bench behind her, and she had to keep her back to him to stop watching the way his lips moved over his apple.

"I talked to Eames this morning." She recalled to Arthur.

"Really? What did he want?"

"To tease me. And say hello. He told me to tell you hello too."

"He knew I was here?"

"He guessed. What else do you think he'd tease me about?"

"Ah. Do I embarrass you?" She could hear the teasing tone in his voice now.

"No."

"Offend you?"

"No," She smiled at him over her shoulder. "You stun me."

She threw the ball for Shire again, and looked at her apple.

Only it was the tennis ball.

"You mixed up, didn't you?" Arthur was trying not to laugh.

Shire caught the apple and began to demolish it.

Arthur, the gentleman, held up his apple for her to take. Instead, she took only one bite of it from his hand, her lips just grazing over the tips of his fingers.

Arthur swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

Ariadne smiled winningly at him and turned back to Shire, immersing herself in the game.

* * *

"It's your turn to cook." Ariadne insisted as they stepped into her apartment.

"I suppose it is." Arthur admitted.

"No 'supposing', that never works." Ariadne gently poked him in the ribs to get her message across; and found the Point Man's sensitivity.

"Are you ticklish, Arthur?"

"Not very, just a little." He attempted to avoid her jabs.

"Really? Because I think you are."

Ariadne smiled and laughed, intent, until Arthur used his skills and caught her wrists, pinning her hands behind her back, locking her against his chest.

He raised an eyebrow, looking particularly roguish. Ariadne caught her breath as he backed her up against the wall.

"You really want to start this?" He whispered in her ear.

She bit her lip. "Yes."

Dinner was forgotten for a while.

* * *

After their eventual dinner of rich beef stew and a baguette, the conversation meandered for a bit till Arthur stopped it in its tracks with something that had clearly been on his mind all day.

"You talked about your family today, its only fair that I talk about mine."

"Only if you think that's the right thing." Ariadne assured him, trying to be a bit more supportive and gentle.

"I used to live in France. You'd guessed that much. But my home doesn't exist anymore, I don't think. I spent the first twelve years of my life there, and now its demolished. My parents were happy there, though. Very happy."

"Did I speak to your mother, that time…?" Ariadne thought back to the young, dark-haired family in Arthur's dreams.

Arthur looked up at her blankly. "Yes."

She curled her hand around his and let him continue.

"My parents pampered me, their only child, loved me with every bone in their body. But then the Civil War in Algeria escalated, and France sent over some of their best soldiers, including my father. He had to do it, it was his duty. He thought of it as a moral obligation, but even though he was going to such a dangerous, blood-thirsty area, he seemed sure that he would come back. He never came back. It broke my mother's heart. She struggled, tried to love her life, to love me just as much as before, but it was like my fathers death had left a hole in her. She died from Takotsubo cardiomyopathy – Broken Heart Syndrome. It's a type of heart failure triggered by the loss of a loved one, and she was one of the few who never recover from it. I was orphaned in France just before my twelfth birthday. And then sent to live with my grandparents in the US. They took me in, gave me a family, a home, a good life."

Arthur swallowed, unable to continue. Ariadne sat with him, waiting for him to collect himself and look her in the eyes again. She smiled when he met her gaze, the softest, gentlest, most perfect smile he had ever seen.

They sat in the silence together for a while, until the atmosphere changed with the realization that they were sharing everything. They could work together.

Ariadne led him over to the window at the end of the corridor, and out onto the fire escape. They climbed onto the flat roof space, over to a concrete block that served as seating.

Almost a third of the surface of the roof was covered in chalk designs, intricate patterns, peculiar mazes. None of the artwork specifically referred to its artist, but her style was clear enough to him.

They sat, looking out across the multicolored lights of Paris. The Eifel Tower loomed near the moon, seeming to touch the sky.

"This is my headspace, Arthur. This is me. No one's ever been up here…unless they somehow snuck over. No one. Only you."

She looked down at her hands, folded in her lap, bashful and uncertain for once.

"You're welcome to come up here anytime for thinking space. It's very effective. Having the whole of Paris stretched out before you can do that to a person."

"Thank you." Arthur's voice was more heartfelt than ever, almost as full of feeling as when he had confessed that he wasn't strong enough. His fingers trailing over hers to take her hand painted fire on her skin, made her nerves come alive.

He took her over to see her own drawings, to try and picture the mazes in reality and, reluctantly, in the dream world. The sounds of soft jazz wafted over from the streets below, as a double bass, saxophone and percussion player busked and improvised for passers-by.

Ariadne didn't realize what Arthur was doing till she found herself in his arms, gently swaying to the music.

"Dancing on the rooftops? You want to push any other clichés there?"

"You're just saying that cause you can't dance."

"You're mistaking 'can't' with 'wont'."

"Oh really?" He neatly spun and dipped her. "Seems like you are."

"Show off." But she was smiling now.

"Just one dance."

"I'll only dance for three-quarters of the song, just to spite you."

"Better than nothing."

He returned her to an upright position, and continued to lead her in circles around the rooftop.

"It'd be nice to take you out and do this."

"Oh, I don't know. Might take me too long to polish my dancing shoes."

"How about a compromise? I take you out for dinner."

"How about another compromise? I pay for half."

"It's payback for all the times you've provided me dinner here."

His face was too innocent for this to be an impromptu thought.

"You've been planning this, haven't you?"

"What's so wrong with that?"

"Nothing. Just once of these days, I'm going to make you do something without thinking it through."

He grinned. "Perhaps. But is that a yes or a no?"

"Yes, of course." She chuckled, resting her head on his shoulder. "You know it's highly unlikely I'd say no."

Ariadne had to admit she did like this corny dancing. It was the perfect excuse to be pressed up against him. The hollow warm feeling that gathered in her stomach whenever he was near had turned into a furnace. She knew it wasn't correct, but she continued to speculate on ways to make him spend the night. If he wasn't such a damn gentleman! But that only made it better, as well as worse.

"You know, the song's changed twice." Arthur teased.

"Hush up." Ariadne smiled, pressing her lips against his to hush him up herself.

* * *

When Ariadne woke up the next morning, she was on her bed, on top of the covers, fully clothed…and curled up with Arthur.

Her first feeling was far too mushy and addle-brained.

Her second feeling was annoyance. This was not her idea of him staying the night.

Typical of anyone who had lived a life that required him to sleep light in case someone came for him with a gun, Arthur woke up the moment she moved to stretch. He didn't even look surprised to see her there. Of course.

"Good morning."

"Morning."

"How'd you sleep?"

"Quite well, actually. I haven't clocked that many hours in a while. And you?"

"Probably like a log." She rolled her eyes.

"I'll go…"

Ariadne swung herself so she was hunched over him, pinning his arms with her own.

"Just relax for a bit. It wont hurt you."

His eyes darkened to liquid fire, and she was reminded of the provocative situation they were in. The position she was in above him. And the bed that was under them. It was only a bit too tempting.

Shire ruined it all by jumping up on the side of the bed and sticking his nose into Ariadne's face for the usual morning greeting. His tail wagged even more furiously when he realized that Arthur was there as well, the movement causing Shire to fall off onto the floor again. The pair laughed, easing the tension slightly.

"I'll go make some breakfast for everyone. You, stay." She risked pushing him down as he tried to help her. "I'll be right back."

After Shire was fed in the kitchen and Ariadne had brought in American-style French toast to share with Arthur, he left.

"I'm going to go do some…scouting." He admitted reluctantly.

She didn't press, thought she wanted to know what was happening in the extraction world.

"I'll see you at seven?"

"Definitely."

She smiled, kissing him goodbye. She rejoiced in the small fact that she could do that.

The kisses kept lasting longer every time they left, and soon she was against the door and struggling to breath or not do anything inappropriate.

"Tonight. I'll see you tonight." He pulled himself away with effort, and she closed the door.

Tonight. Something would change tonight.

* * *

**_And there I think I shall leave it for this chapter..._**

**_Hello! Sorry I kept you guys waiting. You've probably moved onto more updated stories by now. Just know that my holidays (if you could even call them holidays) are going to be absolutely hectic, so I might start updating them this slow. Blame work. Really. Its a complete pain._**

**_Anyway...enjoy? Feedback is helpful :)_**

**_Thanks,_**

**_Light-and-Smoke _**


	12. Thank You

I do not own Inception. But I do own the dvd. (YES!)

* * *

Ariadne was prepared for tonight. Completely and utterly prepared. For a change.

When the knock sounded at the door, she ran a hand over her totem before placing it in her purse, and exhaling. This was real.

Arthur actually seemed stunned when she opened the door. She was wearing a simple but accentuation strapless gold dress that floated down to her knees, her hair up in a loose, elegant bun with tendrils escaping.

He resisted the urge to reach out to her, knowing he might not make it to dinner otherwise. Instead, he didn't say a word. He didn't need to. He just smiled at her.

She smiled back. He looked dashing as usual in a grey three-piece suit. She took his am and closed the door behind her.

They made small talk on the way over, even though both of them were in tangles by simply being near one another.

"Where are we going, anyway?"

"Just a little place I know." Arthur was aloof as always, enjoying the suspense he was putting Ariadne through.

They walked along the route to her university. She had absolutely no idea where they would end up as they walked across the bridge, getting closer to Notre Dame and the university that resided nearby.

However, all was revealed once Arthur came to a halt outside a beautiful old building.

"La Tour D'Argent?" Ariadne had heard only tales about this restaurant, mainly the price, the views, the food, and the mile long waiting list.

"How?"

"I know some people." Arthur smirked at her expression, and lead her inside.

The waiter lead them straight through the doors and past the main tables of the astonishing dining hall, directly to a private table that looked out onto the glimmering views of Notre Dame and the Seine.

Arthur insisted on maintaining his right to push in Ariadne's chair for her, rather than the waiter, and they were left alone as a bottle of wine was requested for their table.

"You really know some people." She commented in awe. "Should I be scared that this is where you take me for a second date?"

He shot her a look across the table that made her smile.

"Just wait for the third."

Ariadne was seriously hoping it wouldn't take that long. If he didn't make a move tonight, gentleman or no gentleman, she was tearing off his annoying suit at the front door.

They ordered their meals and talked about nothing in particular while they waited. She hadn't realized her foot had curled around Arthur's ankle till he trapped it between both of his own, a small smirk playing across his lips. Ariadne leaned in slightly over the table, licking her lips before parting them to say something.

A dish appeared in front of her before she had the chance to continue.

They made pleasant comments on the meal as the waiters left, and Arthur caught Ariadne's eye, setting her on fire. She wasn't quite as hungry anymore, her stomach growing smaller with anticipation.

The Seine twinkled below them, the Notre Dame majestically showcased in warm yellow light.

Everything was perfect.

Until it began to pour down rain.

The pair were almost halfway across the bridge back, ambling slowly along with their fingers intertwined, when the rain began to cascade down. They huddled closer together, then began to walk faster.

When it was apparent it would only get worse, Arthur pulled Ariadne into a run. They splashed through the streets, soaked to the bone.

When Arthur took a different street that didn't lead back to the apartment, Ariadne got curious.

"Where exactly are we going?"

"My hotel. It's closer. Unless you want to stay out here doing a rendition of 'Singing in the Rain'?" He grinned at her. She'd never seen him so free and light before. It made her heart stutter at the sight of him; water streaming down his face, drenched suit clinging to him, the look of pure joy on his face. He looked at her as if his heart was doing the same thing.

Arthur halted their dash, slowly pulling her into him, meeting her lips. He kissed her swiftly again before continuing, a renewed fire in his eyes.

They slowed down as they entered the lobby, shivering slightly as they waited for the lift.

Once the doors closed and they were on their way, Ariadne pulled Arthurs face down to hers again. He was so warm compared to her icy skin.

The lift doors dinged open, and she was tugged along the hall to his door. As soon as they were inside, she was pressed up against the door, and he warmed her again. She struggled to get his restricting suit jacket off him, water logged as it was. He settled for running his hands through her wet hair, across her shoulders, down her arms, painting her with warmth and fire. She loosened his tie, and he carried her blindly over to the bed. They had both lost their shoes somewhere along the way.

Arthur looked at her in the dim light, bathed in only the glow from the streetlights of Paris.

"You sure?"

"Of course." Ariadne pulled him back down to meet her.

* * *

Ariadne awoke at six in a patch of sunlight, draped across Arthur's bare chest. She could tell he was awake. His fingers combed softly through her hair in a continuous loop. She felt as lazy and content as a house cat. She inhaled and sighed, breathing in the fresh sunny scent of him that lay behind his aftershave and Armani suits.

"Good Morning."

"Good Morning."

Ariadne twisted gently so she could see his face. He looked just as content as she felt, the fire in his eyes now dimmed to warmth for the moment. But it was still there.

"Thank you. Last night was incredible." Ariadne looked up at him sincerely.

Arthur leaned down and kissed her sweetly. "Thank you for being incredible."

Ariadne felt fuzzy and rose tinted, and she knew that had to stop.

"Alright, if we continue doing that, we'll be here all day."

"I've got no problem with that," He smirked, pinning her beneath him. His eyes were wicked now, and she couldn't resist him. Moments later, however, she had to come up for air.

"Alright, enough."

"Don't expect me to let you go." He teased.

"If I compromise and get breakfast?" Ariadne batted her eyes at him, and he chuckled, relenting.

"Deal."

Ariadne rolled out of bed and shrugged on some clothes, namely Arthur's shirt from last night. He pulled on boxers and grinned at the sight of his shirt just covering Ariadne's knees. She rolled her eyes at him, and opened the door to the living area.

A man, a great big bulking man, started back from the door, surprised.

Ariadne felt fear shoot through her limbs, prickling her palms and feet.

She took a step backwards in preparation, but she wasn't fast enough. The man lunged for her, fingers scraping for her throat and finding purchase on her shoulder.

He whirled her into the door, the handle digging into her side and the impact leaving her breathless. Before she could react again, his hand pressed across her windpipe, and she gasped, struggling for air. Her vision swiftly began to fuzz and blacken at the sides, like she was viewing life through an ever-shrinking telescope.

Arthur leapt at the man, catching him around the middle and crashing him into the floor. Ariadne tried to lock her legs in to remain upright, but she was so dizzy. She sank to the floor. Woozy and struggling for breath, she attempted to regain her composure.

When she regained her sight, she was Arthur tackling the man, trying to maintain a good grip. The man threw Arthur into a table, which broke and splintered loudly on impact. Arthur didn't even flinch, using the time his opponent had thought he would use for recovery to swing himself around and launch a fit to his face. The man buckled.

Arthur gripped his elbow around the mans neck. Though the man faced away from Ariadne, she could see his neck turning an unhealthy shade of red while he struggled against Arthur. He only tightened his hold.

The man finally stilled. Arthur didn't take any risks. In one swift movement, he twisted a nerve on the nape of the mans neck. The man thudded forwards onto the carpet.

Arthur stilled for a moment before turning to face Ariadne. The professionalism slid from his face, and he was by her side.

"Ariande,"

"Arthur," She breathed, taking shallow breathes so she wouldn't aggravate her throat.

"Ariadne, I'm sorry." He glanced down to where she held her side protectively, and flinched.

"Arthur…we have…to move…" Ariadne's mind was logical a this point, focusing on the ridiculousness of fighting thugs while garbed in underwear, the possibility of more attackers on their way, and anyone else who might come looking.

Arthur helped her up gently, and sat her on the bed as he searched the contents of the mans pockets. Ariadne spied the wound on his shoulder from the smashed table, blood beginning to trickle down his back.

"Arthur…"

He turned, saw what she was looking at, and returned to his task.

"We'll deal with me later. It's not important."

Ariadne huffed at his complete disregard for his own safety and wellbeing, and tried to gather some clothes to wear out of the room. The dress from last night wasn't appropriate, and it would show the bruise forming on her shoulder from where the man grabbed her. Arthur was a fairly lean man, but his pants wouldn't fit her around the middle and be miles too long anyway. His clothes weren't even in the closet, all were packed neatly into his travel bag. She found what she needed anyway.

When Arthur came back from his search, Ariadne was ready, dressed in his shirt that was tucked into a pair of his pajama pants.

Regardless of the situation they were in, the corner of Arthur's mouth lifted in a small smile.

"You are by far the most thoughtful person I know."

Ariadne softened for a second, then shook herself right. She wanted to fold herself into his arms and rejoice in the face that they were alive, but there would be time for that later when there was a guarantee that they would be alive for longer than a few moments. She knew he thought the same. They worked well together that way.

Arthur dressed, and Ariadne wiped down the room of any fingerprints or evidence that they specifically had been there. They left the man in the room, knowing room service wouldn't come in. Arthur wouldn't check out till after the man had been removed.

They both checked their totems. This was real.

For now, they left with his suitcase and the silver PASIV device. As soon as they were a block away, they checked on their team members.

Yusuf was safe, back in Mombasa where he couldn't be traced. He had only been their chemist, after all. Regardless of how good he was, he wouldn't be tracked for being associated with the team.

Saito was their employer, and a multibillionaire to boot. He wouldn't be tracked. His security were on the alert anyway. He was safe.

Eames stated he was nearby in Paris, had not been attacked this morning by a thug, though he alluded to other attacks that weren't necessarily unwelcome, and promised to meet up with the pair at the old warehouse.

Cobb was safe, but now cautious of anything that might be remotely suspicious. However, Arthur was sure that the team wasn't being targeted specifically.

"Its not related to the last case. Your picture wasn't on the man. Mine was." Arthur held up a snapshot of him in a crowd.

"So its someone who you might've worked for before, or been associated with." Ariadne mused.

"It's probably the people who tried to enlist me recently. When I went out _scouting_."

"It means they're not on the correct grounds to mess with you. You're allowed to turn down a job."

"It means that they don't know you're associated with me, Ariadne." Arthur stepped closer to her on the footpath where they had paused.

"If you think that means I'm going to make a run for it now, Arthur, think again. You need me. Or at least, I need you." She stared up into his endless eyes, and took his hand. He smiled, despite himself.

They stopped at a _pharmacie _to pick up a first aid kit, before arriving at the warehouse.

Eames was already inside. Ariadne forgot everything and ran up and hugged him.

"And a hello to you too, darling." Eames grinned, then frowned as Ariadne hissed and clutched her side. "What's the matter?"

Arthur caught her and supported her over to the desk to sit, despite her feeble attempts to batter him away.

"Just a bit bruised. No problem." Ariadne managed a small smile.

"Don't be silly." Eames said with a tinge of worry.

Arthur, the all-seeing, all-knowing Point Man, recalled every injury she had received, and examined her carefully. The worst was her side. From the bottom of her ribcage to toe top of her hip blossomed a spectacularly purple bruise. Nothing was broken, as far as he could tell. Which in this case especially was good. Regardless of the wonderful health care system in place in France, a trip to the hospital would require questions, answers, and a very elaborate story as to how they had been injured in the first place. Records were the last thing they needed when they were trying to be invisible.

At least she wasn't bleeding like Arthur. Once she shook him off, she cornered him.

"Take your shirt off."

Blood was already beginning to stain the white of his button up shirt.

Eames gave an amused cackle. "I don't think I really want to see what you've got planned next, love. I haven't even eaten breakfast yet."

"Eames…" Arthur trailed off exhaustedly.

"Go play nice with the other kids outside, Eames. And if you cant do that, see if you can hold your breath for twenty minutes."

Eames seemed to get how worked up Ariadne was after that, and shut up.

The majority of the wound was on his shoulder, trailing down his bicep. Ariadne sat him down and tapped his legs apart, standing between them to get at his wound.

"This'll sting a bit."

She swabbed the spot with some antiseptic before she took the pair of medical tweezers and began gently plucking the splinters from the wound. Arthur watched as her face showed no sign of squeamishness or faint-heart, a cool facade sweeping over her features.

"How…?"

"My dads a vet. Its not the same thing as treating people, I know, but he taught me a few things."

She made sure there were no pieces of wood left, and cleaned the wound with water from the bottle they had bought.

"Hmm, one will need stitches, I think," She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Reckon you can be a good boy?"

Eames made a retching sound, but Arthur ignored him.

"Go on."

Arthur only clenched his jaw once during the whole seven-stitch procedure. Once Ariadne had antibacterialised and dressed the wound with gauze, she kissed him softly on the lips.

"Thank you."

"Now onto who's after you." Eames walked up with two roller chairs so the three could sit and discuss the matter at hand.

"Any ideas on getting rid of them?"

* * *

**_Hello,_**

**_Sorry for the insane wait on this. I've been swamped with holiday work, of all things.  
_****_And then there are the other excuses such as my dog ate my computer, my alter ego took over for a few weeks, and I got abducted by aliens.  
_****_You can guess which one happened to me. :)_**

**_Either way, there's not much of an excuse, and I hope that I can upload faster now. If anyone has some suggestions, I've been a bit stuck on this too. :S_**

**_Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! 92 reviews is amazing, and absolutely unbelievable.  
_****_Hope you enjoy this one. Tell me if you do or you dont._**

**_Thanks,_**

**_Light-and-Smoke_**


	13. Running, Hiding, Admiring

I do not own Inception, but hopefully I'll own a brain someday.

* * *

Eames, the most knowledgeable criminal in the group, came up with a simple answer for the time being.

"Lie low here and find out if this attack and the company are associated. If so, fly out to their American base and tell them, politely, that you can't do the case and offer up the services of an extractor you know will do the job and do it well. Lastly, donate a few thousand to the company, hang around for a bit till they lose interest, and hop on a plane back to Paris."

"Sounds like you've done this before, Eames." Arthur said quietly, the pain returning to his shoulder. He did what he had been trained to do, isolating the pain and trapping it there, so he could forget about it for a few hours. That had helped him before. But he wouldn't linger on that thought.

"We'll stay here tonight. It might not be safe to be out where they can find us easily."

Eames nodded, the ghost of a smile playing across his lips as he recalled a memory. "And it's the last place they'd expect."

"I'll go call Mrs Boutin from the apartment below mine to see if she can take care of Shire." Ariadne left to take the call in the kitchen so the two men could continue to talk through the plan.

Arthur's eyes followed her till she was out of sight, then turned to Eames. "Will you stay with her while I'm gone?"

"You sure you want me to stay with your girl? Aren't you worried about the fact that I have no morals and I'm irresistible?" He grinned, then sobered up. "No, I understand. Are you that concerned?"

Arthur actually seemed to struggle for a moment, which unnerved Eames slightly. Arthur, composed Arthur, bland Arthur, was suddenly full of life, and the issues that troubled everyone. Ariadne had really affected him. "I just want to make sure she's safe."

* * *

Arthur, being the best Point Man in the business, found out who had sent the attacker to dispatch him within hours, only via the computer. "It's really quite frightening how much is accomplished over the internet, and how much we rely on technology." He commented as he showed his findings.

"Yes, we know, the world's progressed incorrectly, yadda yadda. Get to the Point, Point Man." Eames snipped.

Ariadne stepped on his toe.

"It looks like it's the company that approached me for a job, Eglington and Harris. They're a fairly shady advertising business with a foot in the illegal drugs market. They wanted to hire me to research and extract information from their employees. If they were found to be guilty of stealing from them, it was insinuated that they would be disposed of. I turned down the job, and it seems as if they were planning to have me disposed of as well."

"So what now?" Ariadne asked.

Arthur wouldn't meet her gaze. "If I go along and do the job, this all goes away. However, some guilty people will die for something that was shady to begin with. But if I go along with Eames' idea, I not only ask another extractor and Point Man to do that task, but I also donate money to promote it, and affiliate myself with them. Of course, in both scenarios, there is the possibility of me getting killed anyway."

Ariadne flinched, and Eames put a hand out to comfort her. "Sorry, darling, but this is out world. You can't escape it here."

She swallowed and nodded.

"How about you sleep on the decision." Eames suggested, dragging blankets and lawn chairs over for their camp out. "I'll take first watch, you two have had a long day. And that's not a blessing for any funny business between the pair of you." Eames said with a wink before leaving the office space to sit by the front door, gun in hand.

Ariadne looked at Arthur, unsure of whether or not to go to him. He wouldn't meet her eyes. They stood there silently for a moment, before Arthur broke the silence.

"I've booked an early flight to the USA tomorrow morning. We should get some rest."

"You're leaving?" Ariadne hated how she couldn't mask how pitiful her voice sounded. He raised his head.

"If I stay here, it means they're more likely to find you."

She was stunned by the blatant remark, and the feelings he was hinting towards.

"I'm a big girl, Arthur." She half smiled, closing the distance between them and taking his hands.

"Whoever's out to get me won't say that if they find you with me."

He almost attempted a small smile, but it failed. He gazed down at her, unafraid.

"You know I can't afford to lose you." He admitted quietly, tucking her hair behind one ear.

She kept gazing into his eyes till she couldn't do it anymore, and pressed her head against his chest. "Just…hurry back, okay? And take care of yourself, for once. Promise me that."

Her voice was muffled slightly where she pressed against his shirt, but he still heard her.

"I promise."

When Eames returned to wake Arthur for the second watch that would coincide with his departure for the airport, he found the Point Man and the Architect curled up together on a lawn chair. Ariadne was fast asleep with her head tucked into the nook of Arthur's neck. Arthur was awake already.

Eames fixed him with a look. "Did you sleep at all?"

Arthur threw him a glare. "For a few hours, actually, thank you."

With the uncanny ease of someone who was used to moving around sleeping people, Arthur maneuvered himself out of the lawn chair, leaving Ariadne comfortably asleep and alone.

"You remember out agreement?"

Eames nodded.

Arthur looked down at Ariadne's peaceful form one last time before leaving the room.

* * *

Ariadne awoke to sunlight streaming in, the scent of Arthur clinging to her, but she was alone. Apart from Eames, who insisted upon staying at her apartment.

"There are other hotels, Eames."

"Orders are orders, and I have to stay with the newest member of our team."

"This isn't some bizarre tactic?"

She only received an exaggerated look for that, which she took as a no.

Ariadne had found Shire at home, anxious to see her and healthy as usual. While Eames check the small apartment for bugs, Ariadne checked her new message on her answering machine.

"_Hey, Ari it's Vivi here. Mrs B from downstairs called to say she'd received a weird message from you that you weren't coming home for a day, not even for Shire…? Anyway, call me. And if you don't, I'm coming over to find you."_

Ariadne cursed herself for getting Mrs Boutin involved. She was so suspicious. And now she'd involved Vie as well.

"Who's that foxy sounding girl?" Eames called teasingly, apparently satisfied with his search.

Ariadne cursed again. "Genevieve, my old friend. She used to live here with me before she transferred colleges and had to move. There's no avoiding her, I'll have to see her. Reckon that will do any damage?"

"By all means, love, invite her over." Eames grinned wolfishly.

Ariadne pointed at him menacingly before picking up the phone.

"Off-limits, Eames."

"But that only makes it more enticing, Ariadne."

* * *

They slouched on the sofa later, watching the news. A report on soldiers in Afghanistan played out on the screen.

Ariadne shuddered. "I don't understand how anyone could willingly choose to fight like that. I think it is amazing what they do, and what they sacrifice, but it just doesn't seem possible to me."

"If you haven't noticed, darling, that's our job."

"You know what I mean."

"Well, I think it's very possible. I know people who've chosen it." He hesitated, and Ariadne sensed he was hiding something.

"Spit it out, Mr Eames."

"I'm not sure if I should."

"If you hesitated like that, then it's something I need to know."

He huffed, not liking how easily she'd used that tactic to manipulate him.

"You know Arthur spent a year in the armed forces."

"As an investigator?"

"No. As a soldier."

Eames caught the look on her face and bit his tongue. She nudged him with her elbow to tell him to continue.

"He was training in America for only a short amount of time before he impressed his superiors enough to have him shipped off early to Iraq. His main involvement was covering the evacuation and protection of civilians. The only reason I know all this is because of the only time I studied Arthur's character. I asked about one of the warzones he created in a dream, and he told me. Probably because I annoyed him so much about it."

Eames grinned momentarily, then focused back on Ariadne. "You know its what caused the scar on his bicep? As well as countless others. Though the only times you've seen him you probably weren't focusing on battle wounds." Eames grinned.

Ariadne stood up from the couch, smiling. "Goodnight, Mr Eames."

"What, you don't want me to come in there with you, love? I can assure you my scars are more impressive than Arthur's."

"Goodnight, Mr Eames."

* * *

Genevieve arrived around mid-morning, and Ariadne shot a look at Eames before she went to open the door. He'd not made any effort to clean himself up, sporting the usual rumpled dress shirt with at least two buttons undone, and some questionable pants.

"She's going to think you're my half dressed lover." She hissed at him.

"Am I not?" he shot back.

She bit back an acidic retort partly because she knew it would only be hurtful and partly since she knew it was because she only missed Arthur like a lost limb or vital organ. She didn't want to think about which vital organ in particular. Instead, she opened the door to let Vie in.

Genevieve was striking, both out of the ordinary and a contradiction. Her blonde hair was naturally dead straight, with a silk quality about it that models only tried to fabricate. But instead of letting it grow down to her waist, as Ariadne had seen when she first met her, she cropped it to just past her shoulders. Her eyes were doe-like, hazel and framed by a set of thick blonde lashes.

She was the most natural girl Eames had seen, and yet she seemed distant, on her own planet, untouchable. It only made him want to figure her out, a puzzle that unlike other people, he couldn't solve.

And she hadn't even caught sight of him yet. She was concentrated on Ariadne.

"What's up? It's not like you to let someone apart from me take care of Shire. How did you not call me first?"

Her French tones only made her questions more accented and scary.

Ariadne winced. "It's a very long story, and I don't really know where to begin."

She glanced towards Eames for help, which brought his existence to Genevieve's attention. She looked like a deer in the headlights. "Hello."

"Hi."

Ariadne glanced between the two of them, unnoticed, and smirked slightly. "Don't just stand in the doorway, come in." She shepherded her into the apartment and closed the door.

"You must be Genevieve."

Genevieve's name broke her from her trance, and she tensed at the unfamiliarity of hearing her own name from Eames' British tongue.

"Yes. And you are?"

"Tom Eames." He replied instantly, surprised at how he had actually given his real name to her willingly.

Ariadne blinked, shocked.

"And you are Ariadne's…" She motioned between them, immediately jumping to the French conclusion as Ariadne knew she would.

"No, no, no." Ariadne rushed, hitting Eames with the back of her hand to tell the truth. "Friends. Purely friends."

Genevieve nodded, satisfied with the answer. Eames couldn't figure out whether it was for the concern of her friend or otherwise. Then he realized he shouldn't care either way, unless it revealed their true business.

"So why did you leave? Was the apartment not good enough for you?"

"No! It's been perfect since you left, apart fro the fact that you're not here."

"And how exactly did you two both fit in here anyway?' Eames had asked the simplest question to distract Genevieve while he thought up a more detailed story that didn't involve Ariadne in shady business.

"I took the room that Ariadne has smartly converted into a study. And the apartment is quite big, enough for 2 students."

He smirked at the tone in Genevieve's voice, buying more time. "I doubt that you could even fit Ariadne in here, small as she is, let alone you two and a dog."

"Ariadne is not very small, I don't know what you are insinuating about my size, and shire is perfectly comfortable here, and has been for the past year. Ari, I don't like your friend."

"Oh, is this share-your-feelings time? Are we going to sit in a circle and hold hands?"

"No one asked for your opinion."

"And no one asked for a French girl to come storming in."

"You English pig."

"Again, with the lovely feelings. You really want to get involved here?"

"No, I don't. Ari, he has a gun."

Eames mentally cursed. He hadn't noticed how they had drawn together like magnets so that they were an inch apart, and he certainly hadn't betted on her spying his concealed firearm. Had she known to look for it?

Her eyes were steely. "Run, Ari. I'll buy you some time."

"Can we trust her, Ariadne?"

"Easily. And before you try anything, Eames, she's trained in combat and self defense."

"Right."

He kept eye contact with Genevieve, trying to assure her he wasn't dangerous, at least towards her and Ariadne.

"What have you got yourself involved in, Ari?" Genevieve didn't break eye contact either, trying to determine whether or not he would make a sudden move.

"Just something. It's alright, Vie, Eames is trustworthy. He barely knows how to use that gun anyway."

"Hey! I am perfectly capable of using _all_ kinds of guns, thank you." Eames knew he wasn't helping his case, but Genevieve smirked and backed off a bit.

"Am I allowed to know?" She asked.

"About the many ways I can use a gun? Most certainly." He received two glares for the innuendo, and admitted to himself that now wasn't the time.

"Not everything," Ariadne answered Genevieve's question. "But can you look after Shire for a bit? I might not be able to take him…" She glanced towards Eames, and he nodded in confirmation.

"At this apartment, or mine?"

"Here will be – "

"No, at your apartment." Eames butted in. "Ariadne, if someone finds this place, you could endanger her too."

"Endanger?" Genevieve had kept an incredible calm face through all this.

Eames turned to her. "Cut as many written ties with Ariadne as possible. Contracts, agreements: everything that someone could research your two names and see that you shared an apartment for a few months. Make sure no one could track the friendship you two share, or they could use you."

He was amazed to find that he was pleading. She wasn't anyone important to him. Regardless of how she astounded him.

Genevieve blinked, processed, and nodded. She glanced towards Ariadne. "You're going to have a lot of explaining to do later."

"I promise I'll tell everything." Ariadne said, not even checking with Eames. If they didn't like it, tough. She would tell no one under normal circumstances, but this was her best friend. Her closest friend, despite the 6 months that had flown between them.

She said her goodbyes to Shire and walked Vie to the door.

"I'm sorry you're involved." Ariadne guiltily handed Shire's leash over to her.

Genevieve looked at her, a crease in her smooth forehead. "You've gotten yourself into a lot of trouble, haven't you?"

Ariadne nodded.

Genevieve sighed, and looked beyond Ariadne to where Eames sat. "Well, I'll help you."

She hugged a goodbye and left, more aware of her surroundings than usual, already taking Eames' words to heart.

Ariadne closed the door, strode over to Eames and punched him in the shoulder before hugging him.

"You could have told me she'd been trained." Eames muttered.

* * *

Ariadne packed up anything personal in her apartment. All her photos, gone. Architecture plans, gone. Certificates, identification, specific gifts, gone. All packed into a large box that she would drop off at the back in a safety deposit box. Just in case.

That seemed to be the case for a few procedures Eames was putting her through. Getting her friend to dog sit Shire in another location, 'just in case'. A small handgun, easy to use, 'just in case'. Moving to a large hotel room under forged identification, 'just in case'.

If Ariadne had to write her new signature for Rihanna Gray one more time, she'd growl at Eames for giving her that alias. But she'd growl at anyone nowadays. She hadn't spoken to Arthur in five days, and that was affecting her more than she thought was necessary. Not that she had any control over that.

"It really feels like last time, doesn't it?" Ariadne mused aloud from her chair by the window.

"Feels like what, darling?"

"Inception," She looked over to Eames, who was drawing accurate portraits of his dream alias' to preserve them in his memory and improve his creativity. "The meetings, at the warehouse where you two bicker, the running and hiding. I have to keep reminding myself that we aren't in a dream waiting for the timer to run out. Is that normal?"

Eames sat back with a sigh. "Yes. As long as it doesn't turn into paranoia. We're a group of people who have to occasionally kill ourselves to survive. You have your ways of keeping track of reality, you need to remember them. You're a strong woman, Ariadne. You're just getting over the biggest dream job ever accomplished."

He gave her an honest look before glancing down to his page. Doe-like hazel eyes glanced back. He bit down hard on his lip and erased them.

* * *

Day Six, Arthur called from the plane. "I'm only an hour away."

Ariadne tried to ignore how her stomach leapt at that. "I still think you're 144 hours too late."

Arthur half smiled at that. "Sorry I didn't wake you before I left."

"How was the meeting? If you can say."

"Acceptable. All protected now. I just…"

"Just what?"

"Just had to do it myself."

Ariadne swallowed. "You're alright, though?"

"Yes."

"How's your stitch?"

"All healed. The flight attendant's telling us to prepare for landing. I'll see you soon. I know where to find you, don't worry."

The line cut out before she could respond, but she was only looking forward to the face that he would be there soon.

When the knock at the door sounded, it took all her common sense to check through the spy hole first before yanking the door open and swiftly embracing the Point Man.

"You idiot." She murmured into his neck.

He buried his face in her hair. "Hello to you too."

"Come on in, lovebirds." Eames called to them. They both exhaled in unison, and Ariadne led Arthur in.

* * *

**_Hey guys,_**

**_I understand if you find this one a bit off. I tried, I really did. I think I just lost it for this chapter. Hopefully I can come back with a good one for the next, cause I think I've got a proper plan forming now._**

**_Please comment and tell me how I got it wrong, or whether I actually got it right?_**

**_Thanks,_**

**_Light-and-Smoke_**


	14. Ice Cream and Elephants Dew

I do not own Inception, but I'm so thankful for all the lovely support I have here.

* * *

Two weeks later, Ariadne greeted Arthur with the same flying embrace. Eames, for once, modestly gave them a moment by checking his phone.

"Hello."

"Hi there,"

She laced her fingers with his for a moment, comfortable in his warmth.

"Now…I just need to get Shire ready to visit his Auntie Vie."

Shire, always conscious of ending special moments, poked his cold nose between their hands, overjoyed to see Arthur-and-visitor, Eames.

"I can take the little tramp to Genevieve's." Eames offered. Ariadne looked at him knowingly. "You know, so you two can do lovely couple stuff together like darn socks and clean."

"You can only take Shire if you never call him a 'little tramp' again." Ariadne consented, clipping on Shire's leash and handing him over to Eames.

Address in hand, trying not to be towed away by an excited spaniel, Eames saluted them and Ariadne was left alone with Arthur for the first time in three weeks.

After he had returned from the USA, Arthur and Eames had decided that for the teams safety, they would all split up. They would both look for suitable jobs. Ariadne would sit and look for an even more suitable job: legalized work. She would be graduating in six weeks time.

Ariadne felt absolutely useless, and it only solidified her argument for joining the extraction world. But she wouldn't tell anyone about her forming decision till she was absolutely certain. She would simply enjoy her time with Arthur. Especially since they were heading over to visit Cobb and his children the next day.

But so many things were different now. She couldn't help but wonder whether Arthur was thinking the same thing as her: the last time they had spent the night together. They hadn't seen each other in weeks. But they hadn't talked to each other in weeks either.

Ariadne noticed that they had been gazing at each other quietly for a while, and she flushed.

"I'm going to boil some water. You want tea?"

"Thank you."

He got the mugs out for her like last time, but kept his distance. Ariadne didn't know what that meant, but she tried not to overanalyze it.

Once the tea was served and they sat down comfortably, Ariadne sighed. She looked at Arthur across the counter, feeling like she was back at square one, and realized that she didn't know him. She liked him…she wouldn't think about just how much that bordered on another l word…but she didn't really know him. That scared her more than anything had had happened to her since the dream world.

"Arthur…"

He looked up and met her eyes, and she smiled, not knowing where to begin.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yes?" He smiled.

"What are your dreams?"

"As in, related to extraction, or…"

"The or option."

"Ah." He was quiet for a moment. "You know, I haven't had a dream in about two years."

"Really?"

"Yes. I worked with Dom for three years, and in that third year, I stopped dreaming. Cobb hasn't dreamt for almost as long as I've been in extraction, about five years."

"What were you doing before extraction?"

"Well, I went to Uni for a law degree, which I completed, but then didn't actually use. Instead, I joined the military for a year, before I met Dom at a talk about shared dreaming for soldiers."

"You were part of the first group?"

"Yeah. It was…different."

Ariadne noticed the hesitation. "How was the first trial?"

"Frightening, actually. They didn't come up with the idea of totems till later, through Dom and Mal's experimentation. So soldiers would come out of one warzone into another, since we were at the front lines in Iraq. One of my friends always knew, though. He was colour blind and saw the colour green as the colour yellow. He could see green in the dream world, though. When he woke up, he'd take one look at our uniforms and know exactly where he was."

He looked at her, coming back from his memories. "Reality is easy to keep track of if you have something real to anchor you."

He meant her.

* * *

They were on the bed later, talking like they had for the past few hours. The only question Arthur evaded was why he had initially chosen extraction. The only question Ariadne had avoided was her views on her parents relationship. Arthur knew it was better not to press.

"Would you ever get a tattoo?" Ariadne asked.

Arthur smiled at her impish expression. "Never. But if I did, it would probably be something in Latin. Nothing too tacky."

"Sounds just like you. An ancient, incomprehensible language."

Ariadne laughed when he poked her in the ribs in a very un-Arthur-like manner.

"What about you?"

"A symbol. I'm not sure whether it would be Chinese or something else. I haven't given it that much thought, though. The thought of a needle repeatitively putting ink under a layer of your skin…" She shuddered.

"One of your fears?"

"No. I don't know what my exact fears are." She admitted, closing her eyes. Arthur knew it was only to think of an answer, so he waited patiently, one hand on her arm just to keep some sort of contact with her.

"Probably being left. Or lied to by someone I completely trust." She kept her eyes closed, and Arthur gently traced his fingers across her arm to let her know it was okay. She'd been burnt by someone, he'd guessed as much by now, and he didn't want her to relive those feelings.

Ariadne sighed, and opened her eyes to look at him. It brought her back from anything bad.

"And you?"

"I fear causing any suffering to those who don't deserve any, and blindness. And goats."

"Goats?"

He smiled despite the seriousness of the topic; her face was simply priceless.

"Yes, goats. I was chased up a tree by one when I was six."

"You? Chased up a tree? By a goat?"

Arthur didn't mind too much. Her incredulity made him feel like she believed he could do everything and face anything. If only she knew.

"Anyway, we never got around to the question you asked before. What are your dreams?"

"You go first."

Arthur couldn't honestly remember. "My last dream…probably running from something in the dark and falling into nothing, not ever hitting the ground. I had a reoccurring dream like that after joining extractions. You don't need to be an analyst to figure out why."

"Mine haven't been like that, at least not yet. In mine, I'm always trying to find something, but then my surroundings collapse. Sometimes I wake up, sometimes I just find myself in another dream where it happens again. Sometimes a city will tumble to pieces to reveal a beautiful meadow, sometimes the house around me collapses and then rebuilds itself into something else." She laughed at herself. "I have architects dreams, don't I?"

"I haven't discussed personal dreams with an architect before." His voice was soft, just for her, all for her. "I haven't discussed personal anything's with many people, at all."

"Me either." She murmured, tracing light patterns with her fingers in his open palm.

They lay for a moment like that, till Ariadne moved her feet to connect with Arthur's.

"You weren't kidding about the cold legs, huh?"

The corner of her mouth curved up in a smile. "Yeah."

Arthur looked at her for a few seconds longer than necessary before leaning over and settling a blanket over them. Warm and cozy, they didn't need to say much else.

Just as Ariadne was dozing off, Arthur murmured her name.

"Ri?"

"Mmm?" She focused on him sleepily.

He gazed at her and smiled. "Never mind. Sweet dreams."

They fell asleep with their fingers intertwined.

* * *

The trio of team members drove up the gravel driveway to Cobb's house in LA the next day. Ariadne was anxious to see what Cobb would be like. The last time she had heard from him was two weeks ago while she was stuck in the hotel being babysat by Eames. He had sounded different, just as proud of his kids as Arthur had told her, but free as well. At least she hoped so.

She couldn't wait to see James and Phillipa's faces. She had spent too long in Cobb's dreams, she didn't know anything but the back of their heads. They rang the doorbell and listened to the sound of two sets of feet sprinting for the door.

"Can we open the door, Dad? Pleeeease?" Two breathy, angelic voices pleaded.

A set of larger footsteps approached. "Alright, Pip. Just this once."

A small blonde girl opened the door slowly, while her younger brother peeked around her to see who the visitors were.

"Arthur!" James latched himself onto the Point Man's legs in a hug.

Phillipa smiled shyly, at the age of 7 far too old to make sure public displays of affection, but uncertain still with what was appropriate.

"Hey, James. Hi Pip." Arthur patted James on the back, reaching down to hug the 4-year-old before detaching him so he could walk in and introduce the others.

Cobb beat him to it. "Arthur! Ariadne! Eames!"

The voice took Ariadne by surprise. It was much less weighted and held more life than before. Cobb stood in the hallway, beaming at the sight of his colleagues, his friends.

"Dom," Ariadne smiled, hopping forward to catch him in a bear hug. "It's so good to see you."

"It's great to see you too."

"You're looking well."

"As are you."

"But nowhere near as good as me." Eames grinned, clapping Cobb on the shoulder.

"Eames! How are you, you dog?"

"Alright and dandy. Though I've had to deal with these two…"

Arthur made a warning sign to him over Cobbs shoulder for Eames to shut up. Eames caught on quickly.

"…complaining. The whole trip. All the time, even. They both call me up just to complain. Seperately. From separate phones. At separate apartments. Yes."

Cobb glanced at him, then Ariadne, then Arthur, before returning to Eames.

"Oh, look, Toblerone!" Eames pointed to Ariadne, who remembered the giant duty-free chocolate she held.

"Oh, of course, for everyone to share." She smiled, waving it slightly before handing it to Phillipa and James, who stared at it wide eyed.

"You gonna introduce us, Cobb?"

"Of course. Phillipa, James, this is Ariadne and Eames. They're my…friends. I suppose."

Eames made a big show of being hurt at that comment. "Really, Cobb, after all we've shared."

"Don't remind me." He sighed. "Lunch is on the table."

"We've brought the salad, as you asked." Arthur said.

Eames went to play the part of carrier boy, retrieving the salad from the car. Phillipa and James led Ariadne by the hand to the kitchen-living area, talking of drawings and the backyard and their cubby house that really needed an upstairs, according to them. While she was distracted, Cobb intercepted Arthur.

"If what I think is happening is actually happening, it better not be."

Arthur opened his mouth to say something, to stand up to Dom and tell him it was actually happening and he was damn happy, to tell him that it might not go wrong, even to tell him that Dom had stolen that line from a children's movie, but he thought the better of it and shut his mouth again.

They all sat down and made easy conversation, despite the uneasy fact that they were all related to a business that they couldn't even mention in front of Cobbs bright children.

When Ariadne excused herself to go fetch something from the car, Cobb watched Arthur as his eyes followed Ariadne out of the room. When Cobb caught Arthur's gaze again, he raised his eyebrows. Arthur narrowed his eyes and looked away.

As Ariadne entered the house again, she heard something shift in the open dining room leading off the hallway. Knowing that no one was absent from the table apart from her, she stepped into the room.. Nothing seemed out of place till she passed by the window, which was ajar. She walked around to the other side of the table to see if anything lay beyond the long tablecloth, and froze.

A man with brown, buzz cut hair pointed a gun at her. Ariadne opened her mouth to say something, thinking the better of it. It wouldn't be smart to call to the others.

"Don't say anything." He murmured.

She watched, wide eyed, as he stood up from where he had been hiding.

"Just stay very quiet."

Ariadne couldn't stop her legs from shaking.

The man noticed, and smiled cruelly. "If you stay very quiet and don't make a sound, I might let you live. Browning only sent me to kill the men, after all. You don't seem the type who'd do anything rash to save them, hmm?"

Her hands were shaking now too, and she nodded her head.

"Good. So just stay here, nice and quiet."

"Ariadne?" Arthur called. "Have you got it yet?"

She heard the chair scrape as he stood to go see her. The man raised a finger to his lips and she nodded again.

Once his attention and gun were pointed elsewhere, Ariadne launched himself at him.

Her shaking was from the onslaught of adrenaline as she thought through everything. She hadn't wasted two weeks just looking for work. Vie had taught her how to fight.

Ariadne forced her knee into his gut, before knocking the gun from his hand. But the man had been trained well, and he tripped her up and sent her sprawling onto the table. She punched him in the jaw repetitively, hoping at least one would daze him a bit.

Arthur walked in and found her. As the man spun Ariadne into a chair, sending it clattering to the floor, Arthur marched in, quickly grabbing the man's knee and dislocating it with a sickening pop.

"Was that a crash?" Cobb asked from the kitchen.

Arthur flattened the intruder on the floor with one hand trapped behind his back. He found the same nerve in his neck as he had done weeks ago with the last attacker, and sent the man off into his subconscious.

As the sounds of the others approach echoed down the hall, Arthur made sure the man was hidden behind the tablecloth again, and moved to help Ariadne.

"I always seem to bruise myself for you," She muttered, sitting up to evaluate the damage. "And I started fighting this time and everything. I want to knock out the bad guy for a change!"

Arthur kissed her shakily on the forehead.

"What happened?" Cobb couldn't quite understand what he was seeing.

"Ariadne just stumbled into a chair, that's all." Arthur lied smoothly.

"Clumsy as always." Ariadne grinned, not wanting Phillipa and James to know the real reason and the attacker lying unconscious only a few feet away. She caught Eames' eye and he nodded.

"Alright, why don't we go get dessert prepared. I think ice cream always does the trick for a bruise, right Pip? Jamesy?"

"Of course!"

"With sprinkles and topping too!"

"Well, how about you two teach Eames how its done?"

"Yeah."

"C'mon!"

They raced off down the hallway, leaving Cobb to find out the truth.

"Here, Dom," Arthur nodded to the man behind the tablecloth. "He was attacking Ariadne when I cut in."

"Hey, I was still punching him." Ariadne protested in her defense, before continuing. "He said Browning sent him. And unless you can think of any other Browning's, then I think they know about our last job."

The two men morphed into the men she knew from work.

"How?" Cobb felt dread in the pit of his stomach. He could be taken from his kids again.

"I don't know. But this guy's going to be unconscious for a few more minutes. We could find out."

Cobb looked at Arthur, evaluating his idea.

"Ok. We'll knock him out and put him in the shed for now. I'll call Miles. He's on holiday here till his class graduates in Paris. I'll see if Marie can watch over the kids. Then we'll make a plan from there."

Arthur nodded, and Cobb went to check on Eame and call his father-in-law.

Ariadne helped Arthur administer chloroform to the attacker and lug him into the 'shed', which was really an office space that was perfectly set up for using a PASIV device. Arthur bound the man to a chair, just in case.

They went back to the dining room to clean up anything they had missed.

"I'm sorry, Ariadne." Arthur sighed.

She didn't like the heavy tone in his voice. "What on Earth are you sorry for?"

"Leading you into danger. And when I couldn't do that, leading danger to you."

"You didn't know that."

"I should have, though."

She understood he wasn't just trying to be the dramatic hero. A Point Man's job is to know all. He should have somehow seen this coming, it was his job. And he had failed, twice.

But then he did the most obvious and unthinkable thing.

"We shouldn't see each other."

Ariadne's breath caught in her throat.

"You don't really mean that, do you?"

"I do."

"Why?"

"Because – "

"Because you're worried about a small danger? Or Cobb?"

"No, because – "

"Is it because you're worried about professionalism?"

"Of course not, it's – "

"Because you say you care, when really we've just been playing this game for a long time and you always knew you would leave, and – "

"Because I care too much. Because I can't lose you. Because I don't care what anyone else thinks. I love you."

Arthur even seemed surprised that confession had slipped out. He had thought about saying it on so many occasions. Why did he have to choose the most inconvenient and unromantic time?

Ariadne walked slowly over to stand before him.

"Then why the hell would you leave when I love you too?"

Arthur kissed her tenderly. Neither noticed anything but the burning warmth generating between them till Cobb announced his presence with a dry cough.

"Phillipa and James made dessert."

A hint for them to break away from doing whatever-it-was-that-Cobb-just-didn't-want-to-know.

* * *

**_Hello,_**

**_Thank you, guys. You gave me a bit more faith in myself.  
About the title, I have a feeling that everyone knows it, but I'd love to explain it anyway.  
If you mouth the phrase 'Elephant Stew' to someone, it looks like 'I love you'. But I always thought it was 'Elephant Dew', because I thought it seemed much nicer than elephant stew. :P_**

**_Reviews are always welcome.  
_****_Thanks,_**

**_Light-and-Smoke _**


	15. Uncertainty

I do not own Inception, the GAT (Australian exam test thing), or time management skills.

* * *

Phillipa and James were sent off to their Grandmere and Grandpa's after an ice cream dessert so thick with topping that Ariadne felt the sugar coating her teeth. The moment the children's footsteps pitter-pattered off the porch front, Cobb got to work.

"Right. Lets see him."

The man was still tied to the chair, head lolling backwards.

Arthur resisted the urge to punch him for laying a hand on Ariadne.

"He should be unconscious for another hour."

"Then lets get to work." Eames said grimly.

"I'm not going in." Cobb's voice was quiet, muted.

Ariadne turned to look at him. There was a different fear in his eyes than before.

"I cant do it again. Its like a drug. If I go back….I'm not sure I'll be able to stop myself."

This was the sacrifice he was making. He wouldn't ever create impossibilities anymore. He would stay in reality, so he could live his life.

"We only need two people." Arthur said.

Eames caught on before Ariadne had the chance to open her mouth to volunteer. "Looks like its just you and me then, Artie-boy."

Ariadne paused, and nodded. She had only done one job, she wouldn't know what to do in this situation, and things were shaky with Arthur as it was. She couldn't afford to push it now. She helped set up the PASIV device, resisting the silly urge to put Arthurs on for him under Cobbs watchful eye. Instead, Ariadne set the timer for ten minutes and pressed the red button.

She watched her lover lose consciousness, and sat on the floor next to the device, letting out a shaky breath. Cobb studied her with his careful, eternal gaze as her perched in an armchair for the wait.

"Troubled, Ariadne?"

She gave him a look that he supposed he would be receiving from Phillipa in a decades time. "Oh come off it, Dom, you already know."

"Yes?"

"Well, help me? Please?"

He sighed through his nose. "I could give you a list of things I like about it, Ariadne, but its still not a good idea. You've already been in danger. You saw what happened between Mal and I."

"But it wouldn't be like that."

"Believe me, with relationships, even when the story has never been the same, it really is. It might not happen in the same way, but these two things shouldn't mix. Trust me."

Ariadne felt the regret behind his words, and understood that he knew what he was talking about. She had to believe him.

"Let me hear the good things, then."

"I've never seen Arthur like this before. And from what little I know of you, it's the same. You both share a perfect understanding because you know more about each other than what you could share in any other relationship."

"It doesn't feel like it sometimes."

"Everyone has their secrets. But when you try to connect with someone from the real world in this same way, it never works out well. You can't do this and have something steady with someone who isn't allowed to know why you leave at 4 in the morning for Morocco and return a month later with no explanation."

"I think I've got a way out."

Cobb quirked a brow. "Explain."

"I'm not sure if its right, or if we could – "

Eames took in a swift breath that claimed their attention.

The PASIV timer still read 2 minutes. Ariadne watched with the faintest trepidation until Arthur opened his eyes and calmly pulled off his tube, frowning slightly.

Eames was next, shaking out his arm in disgust.

"Well, that was informative."

"What did you find out?" Cobb cut the pleasantries in the hurry to understand.

Eames gestured to the attacker, still unconscious in the chair. "This guy's just a messenger. Arthur and I found our announcer inside."

* * *

"Think it'll be in the safe?" Eames asked Arthur as he tugged on his tie. It was Eames' dream, so they were in a casino, a recreation from a James Bond movie.

Arthur was not impressed.

"You couldn't make it more obvious?" He hoped the mark wouldn't catch onto the fact that it was a dream, though Eames was never good at keeping it realistic.

"Oh, sure, I'm the one who's making it obvious."

Arthur glanced over to where Eames was nodding, and froze.

For a split second there was a vision of Ariadne seated at the bar, wearing a long black dress with a slit up the leg. She turned and locked eyes with him, before vanishing between the throngs.

Arthur had to remind himself that she was watching over them in the real world, she wasn't real, she was a projection, simply because she was so present in his mind. He understood now just how hard Cobb would have had to fight to remind himself of that same fact.

The thought solidified in his mind when she disappeared right before him. It didn't settle the nerves growing in the pit of his stomach.

"You're really worried about her, aren't you?" Eames hit the nail on the head, turning to look at Arthur. Arthur glanced away, not willing to talk about it.

"We should find the mark."

"We've got plenty of time, Arthur. Talk."

"I don't know whether we should see each other anymore."

Eames stared.

"Because...?"

"Because its too dangerous. And she's too good. We all knew I'd end up stuffing it up anyway."

"You're Mr Perfect Point Man. You don't stuff up."

"Exactly. So how have I managed to nearly get her seriously injured or killed, twice? I stuffed up."

"So you stuff up, you repair, you keep trying. She's worth fighting for, you've already proved that much. Isn't she worth trying for as well? She's far too good for you to give her up, Arthur. We both know that."

Arthur couldn't come up with a logical, proper case against that. He merely shot Eames a look and moved to find the mark.

They searched around the bar, the tables and gambling seats. It wasn't till they turned to face the main hall that Arthur noticed.

"Eames, _you_ are to one who's trying to make something very obvious."

Eames turned, confused, till he saw the lifesized painting hung up in the middle of the main wall.

Doe eyes.

Short blonde hair.

Beautiful, tall, slender figure.

"I have no idea what you are talking about." He snipped, striding away.

"For someone who said that they wanted to test drive rather than invest and buy, you're paying an awful lot of attention and mind space."

"That's what my job entails, I'm just practicing."

Arthur hadn't ever heard that tone in Eames' voice before, but he knew not to pry.

He'd realize soon enough.

They found a door leading off to the private offices, and scoped out the area. They found nothing, so naturally their suspicions grew. They reached the only room with a closed door, and paused to catch each others eye before they burst through the door, guns drawn.

They didn't expect too many people on the other side.

They certainly didn't expect a troop of armed projections.

Neither understood why they weren't shooting till a familiar figure passed through the crowd. Arthur had to double check Eames was still beside him.

Peter Browning.

"Well done, boys. I knew you'd try to hack into my employees mind."

"How are you even here?" Arthur asked through clenched teeth, fearing for Ariadne and Cobbs' safety above. Had they been dream mobbed?

"Relax, Mr Hale, I'm not really here. More of a projected memory. A greeting card. I couldn't come in person, naturally. And yes, we know who you are, and what you have done."

"Well, then what do you want from us?"

"A job. You robbed me of my retirement fund, gentlemen. And I need that money, the same amount Fischer would have bestowed upon me if he hadn't been mind warped by your lot."

"How?" Eames asked, straightforward and blunt as always.

"My suggestion is that you find out fast. Your deadline is in a fortnights time. Otherwise you can tell Raoul here-" he gestured towards a man in the crowd, the intruder. "-when you wake up that you refuse the job. It would be nice to think about what he would do, but I'm sure you can imagine. Or experience it now."

Browning chuckled, and sighed. "Alright, boys, I'm done."

The men approached them swiftly.

Eames shot Arthur clean in the head before he had the chance to react.

A guard shot him in the arm in retaliation, and he swore before shooting himself out of the dream.

* * *

Eames shook out the phantom pain in his arm once more before relating the dream to the group. The four were silent, stuck in a long pause.

Cobb broke the silence. "Well, lets get some things packed up and shipped off before he wakes up."

"We're running away?" Ariadne couldn't believe she was hearing this.

"Of course. We don't really have any other choice, and I don't want to kill him so he doesn't follow us."

Ariadne shivered, yet she understood the cold tone in Cobb's voice. He had come to terms with the animalistic food chain of survival in dream work. Maim or be maimed. Kill or be killed. Fight or die.

"We do have another choice, Dom." Arthurs voice was strong, carrying clearly despite the calm, quiet tone he possessed. He was more of a leader than he took credit for.

"We can do the job, we just need to do it cleverly. Give Browning the money without robbing someone in need."

"And how do you suppose we'll do that?"

"I have an idea forming. We'll discuss more on the plane ride. Dom, lets gather up your things. You know you can't live here anymore."

Cobb nodded, accepting Arthur's words.

Eames stared at Arthur in surprise. "You finally picked up on some creativity, Arthur. Where on earth did that come from?"

It took less than an hour to move the Cobbs life into his car.

"Anything of real value is in the bank or a rented storage garage under the name of Daniel Crowell." Cobb explained, "We moved in here and rented the place with its furniture only two months ago, when I came back. It makes this easier."

"We'll find you a better place, where you can stay in peace and let Phill and James grow up." Ariadne promised.

"And Ari here can help design the place." Eames nudge Ariadne as he passed with a box. "With you two crazy architects, the house could be a maze of its own."

"Well, that's all, I think." Arthur announced.

They wiped everything down as a precaution. Ariadne realized that she would be doing this constantly if she took the criminal route here.

She continued to ponder this and the ramifications of her choice till they reached the airport. They would fly to New York to deal with Browning's demands. A few sentences over the phone got them on one of the jets from Saito's new airline, and they were soon in the air.

"So, Arthur, tell us about this lovely plan of yours." Eames prompted as they sat in the ridiculous plush lounge seats.

"Not certain so far." He mused. "I can't seem to see a way where it wont just be profit for Browning."

"What about Liam Dunn?"

The three men turned to look at Ariadne, who was meditatively sketching in her notebook.

"He made his money from blackmailing declining businesses, and has been using it to invest in the shipment of illegal weapons."

"And how do you know this, love?"

She shrugged. "My friend used to date him in college before he dropped out. She still keeps tabs on him, since he turned out to be such a character."

"Would this be Vie?"

Ariadne and Arthur shared a quick smirk. "No."

Eames seemed to catch himself, and continued, clearing his throat. "Right. So lets see if we can steal from this Dunn in a legal transfer by using what method."

"Simple extraction." Cobb interjected. "No inception, for something like this."

They all paused for a moment in recognition of this agreeance.

"So a simple extraction of his bank details, then a transfer, and leave Browning to clean up any mess?" Arthur proposed.

"And if we also can find incriminating evidence on Liam's illegal shipments, we can give that to the authorities." Ariadne added, the idea spinning and gaining substance in her mind.

"I must say, this is the least specific thing you've ever done, Arthur."

Eames received a slap across the back of the head.

"Lets just settle for the rest of the flight, okay? We need our energy."

With that, Cobb settled back with an exhale, and closed his eyes. Arthur left Eames alone and went to sit by Ariadne in peace.

"Wow, I'm surprised to see you wanted to sit with me. Sure its not too dangerous?" Ariadne snipped, not looking up from her paper, though her fingers trembled with Arthur so near.

"You know why it would be best."

"And why it would be far worse."

He sighed, trailing a finger softly across her shoulder and down her arm. "When we get to New York, please, go back to Paris."

"If you want me to go anywhere, then stop doing that."

He smirked a little, despite himself. The tension in her voice told him everything. She missed him. Body and soul.

"I mean it. Go back – "

"And what, wait for you to not join me? Fat chance, Arthur."

"It'll be easier."

"No, it wont. You know I need you. And like it or not, you need me. At least for this job."

"You can't join us, Ri."

"I can and I will. None of you know Liam. You can't design a believable dream that will suit him in time. Cobb wont do it either, he wont enter the dream space. You need me with you to dream it up."

She had a point, Arthur knew it. He didn't like it either.

Ariadne suddenly deflated, the fire fading in her eyes. "I know you don't want me there."

"Don't think its because of me wanting distance between us. Only between anyone who wants to hurt you." Arthur paused. "I need you there."

He stopped, just within the boundaries he kept himself in. Ariadne understood enough. She leaned against him, settling so they were both comfortable. Ariadne drew things that weren't architecture and lines, instead replicating Shire and a birds nest outside her apartment window. Lastly, she drew a pair of fiery, liquid eyes, before turning to find that the true living version of them were closed in the most peaceful, natural slumber she had seen him fall into.

* * *

They ran along the train tracks, not quite certain how they got there. The track dipped into a tunnel. The pair ran down into the dark without hesitation, seeking shelter. Once they were far away from the entry, they slowed.

"Still don't like this."

"It's a little late now," She softened her words by catching his hand in a tender move. "It's a sound plan."

Cobb was up top monitoring. Liam had no training, so only one layer of the dream. Eames was robbing, something he never ceased to remind them that he was quite trained in. Ariadne was the bait, the creator and the obvious dreamer to distract the projections. Arthur was her bodyguard.

They heard the noise of the projections moving closer, and Arthur covered Ariadne against the wall with his body.

"There's a secret door here." She murmured, anything not to concentrate on the sad fact that this was the closest their bodies had been for a while. She didn't enjoy the fact that they weren't even this close in reality, and she had to wait for dreams like this to feel his pulse.

"Wait," Came his hushed, husky reply.

Her fingers coiled around the hinge latch that would open up a panel door, as she designed, to give them another hiding place that the projections would take longer to find.

His hand suddenly curled around hers, and she looked up at him. In the dark, his eyes were so cast in shadow she could only pick up glimmers of light. But he was nevertheless looking at her. She saw so much reflected in those eyes just then.

Ariadne barely had a moment to contemplate on it before his grip tightened around hers and they stumbled backwards into the stairwell that lead to more mazes within the city.

The door shut with a soft _snick_, melding into the wall. Ariadne was still in contact with Arthur, pressed against the railing. Arthur's gaze was the same as before, intensely so, but then he stepped away and started up the stairs.

Ariadne followed with an audible huff.

"Very nice work." Arthur complimented as they climbed.

Ariadne's thoughts turned to the idea spinning in her head like a whirlpool, and decided to voice it out loud. "What would you think about leaving this line of work?"

Arthur paused. "As in, stop dreaming?"

She couldn't help but smile softly at that. They were all addicted in their own way. "No,"

"Then how?"

"I think I have a way that could be considered legal."

Arthur looked at her. "As in a legal form of stealing?"

Ariadne pursed her lips. "I still need to run some research into it…but I think it's a way out."

Arthur kissed her, pressing her against the banister just so. The projections interrupted, the sound of them breaking down the door echoing in the stairwell.

"Time to move." Arthur noted. His eyes were lit with a resolution. Ariadne just couldn't see what.

* * *

**_Hello,_**

**_Long story short, this story's back on track. And so is my life. Exams can go die..._**

**_Anyway, guess who's back with a brand new mind?_**

**_Reviews pretty please, so I can figure out more of what you rate and hate. _**

**_Thanks,_**

**_Light-and-Smoke_**


	16. Tired of Running

I do not own Inception. Only this story and a decent voicebox.

* * *

He disappeared after that.

Ariadne helped Cobb move into a flat with his children and began to design a new home for them, expecting Arthur to stay at her apartment till she returned…to call, or contact her somehow. She regretted not finding some way to contact him, but she knew he would find her if he needed to.

When she finally flew back, he wasn't there.

Nor was he at the hotel he had stayed at before, or at any hotel she could contact within Paris.

Ariadne began to feel that stomach rising panic when she thought someone had attacked him, but then she realised that the two suits he had left at her apartment were gone. As was his toothbrush and razor.

She hadn't noticed just how he had begun to seep into her everyday life till the small reminders of him that had begun to live in her world were gone.

As a last resource, she called Eames.

"Ellllllo?"

"Hey Eames,"

"He's not here, darling."

She sighed, not pleased that he knew who she was and why she was calling with two words. Her limbs felt like they were sinking.

"Where's he gone, Eames?"

"I don't know."

"Thomas Eames, you tell me…"

"I honestly couldn't tell you, duck. He won't want to be found. When he gets tired of running, he'll come back."

* * *

Ariadne's graduation went off without fuss. There were no suspicious men lurking and waiting to harm her, no blotches on her certificate. She didn't trip like she did when she graduated from high school, and the announcer didn't stumble over her name.

But what excited her the most was her audience.

There was the beaming face of Professor Miles, next to the alight faces of Cobb and his children.

Yusuf had flown in from Mombasa, and stood smiling next to Eames, who wolf whistled and cheered.

Vie stood on his other side, amused and laughing with him for a change.

Saito sent his congratulations in a card with an exquisite dried blossom…far more than she had expected from her former employer.

Her parents stood in the front row. Her mother was wide eyed and smiling, determined not to shed a tear since she and Ariadne had joked so much about it the day before. Her father seemed as if he would split his face from his grin, pride rolling off him in waves.

When she came off the stage, her parents enveloped her in a bear hug.

"We're so proud of you!" Her mother cried, planting a kiss on Ariadne's head before wiping off the rose lipstick smudge she left.

"My darling girl." Her dad smiled, and she laughed at the pet phrase.

Miles and the Cobbs showed up next.

"Ari!" Phillipa and James chorused, encircling her knees.

Miles hugged her warmly.

"My best and brightest." He stated. "Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"Clearly I'm not his favorite anymore." Cobb joked as he too hugged her. "And I don't blame him."

Eames interrupted by placing his hands over Ariadne's eyes while the Cobbs moved to converse with the Matthews.

"Guess who?"

"God." She stated with a smile.

"Correct." Eames rewarded her with a ruffle to the head.

"Congrats, Ari!" Vie enveloped her in a hug, swatting Eames away.

"You stole her from me."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

As they continued, Ariadne smiled and waved at Yusuf over Vies shoulder.

"Hi."

"Very impressive. Congratulations. " He smile warmly, and her own smile grew wider at his familiar accent.

"Thanks."

"Did _not._"

"Did _too._"

The argument grew, and Yusuf nodded his head towards the bickering pair.

"Sorry. I've been stuck with them the whole time…"

"Oh, go on." She waved him over to the sanctuary of normal people, sacrificing her own sanity to stay.

"She wanted to talk to someone normal."

"Normal like you, you mean."

"Are you insinuating something again?"

"None at all, milady."

"Because you know I could just break you."

"Only depending on where I put my hands."

"Don't you dare."

"I will dare."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really."

"Only If you say that I didn't steal her."

"Well, if anything, she's not yours to steal."

The new voice broke them from their squabble over Ariadne's shoulder, and Vie drew her arms away so Ariadne could confirm that Arthur stood there, saving her from a couple that should spend their energy doing things other than arguing.

Eames and Vie left, wiggling their eyebrows at each other.

Ariadne was at a loss for words. "Thanks."

"Welcome."

"Did you see the graduation?"

"Yes. I came back for that. Only for that. I knew how important it was for you."

"Oh." She couldn't stop the small bubble of hope that rose in her chest.

"The whole team wanted to support you today."

The bubble started to shrink.

* * *

_Knock Knock Knock_

Ariadne opened a bleary eye to check her clock. It beamed back the numbers 2:47. She shut her eye again, settling into the doona.

_Knock Knock Knock Knock_

She groaned, flinging back the sheets and adjusting her bed socks. If it was some drunken friend again, she wouldn't help them. It had taken far too long for her apartment to air out again, and she valued it so highly that she wouldn't let it happen again.

_Thump Thump Thump_

"Alright, alright, I'm coming." She called, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

She leaned up against the door to check the peephole.

She jumped back.

She checked again just to be sure.

Then she cracked open the door just to see it properly.

Arthur leaned against the doorframe, bloodied and bruised.

Ariadne kept the door ajar enough for her to fit, so he'd get the message.

"Hello. Can I come in?"

She looked at him, poker faced. "No."

She then promptly shut the door in his face.

Ariadne turned and rested against it, hoping he would go away.

_Knock Knock Knock_

Apparently not.

"I did say no."

"Please, Ariadne."

"Isn't it _'too dangerous'_ for you to be near me?" She asked, sarcastically.

"Ariadne…"

"What's going on up there?" came the shrill voice of Mrs D downstairs.

"Please, Ri."

Ariadne faltered, then opened the door.

"Fine. But only because Mrs D would have a heart attack if she saw you."

She allowed him past before she locked the door.

He stood still in the hallway, wanting to lean against something to support himself, but not wanting to bloody it.

Ariadne glared at him, sensibility taking over in the end.

"Go down the hall. You know where the bathroom is."

She watched him walk off, trying not to concentrate on how his muscles moved or how bread his shoulders were, or how he still even smelt as intoxicating as before, even with all the blood and bruising. Instead, she gritted her teeth and went to help him.

Again.

Arthur slumped on the edge of the bathtub, breathing through his nose as he begun the process of taking off a suit that clung painfully to his form. Now was not the time for him to think about how she still smelt like vanilla, or how she still used that pear shampoo, or how she wore her hair an inch longer than before. Nor was it the time for his heart to sink slightly when Ariadne strode in only to leave a first aid kit by his feet.

"Here."

"Thank you."

She had planned to storm back to bed and sleep, leaving him to deal with himself however he liked since it wasn't her business anymore.

She faltered when he peeled off his formerly white shirt with a sharp intake of breath. She found herself mimicking it, wincing.

This hadn't just been some random bashing.

It was more than that.

It had been torture too.

Bright red bands around his wrists showed that they had tied him up. Bruises bloomed like flowers of watercolour paint across his torso. And despite the material of his suit, someone had taken the effort to carve a word into his back. '_Son Of A Bitch'._

Ariadne bit back a hitching sob that was suddenly threatening to suddenly threatening to climb up her throat and out of her mouth.

And that was when she caved.

"Do you need help?"

"I'll try to deal with this myself. I don't want to trouble you."

"I didn't ask if you wanted help, Arthur. I asked if you needed help."

He was a Point Man, he noticed things. Things like how she said his name like no one else, how regardless of any other emotion, she always said his name with that same lilt.

"Yes. I need help."

"Do you mind if I help you?"

"I want your help. Ariadne. Please." He didn't need to say her name; it had just been so long since he could.

He caught her eye and everything flooded back like a monsoon. But they were both uncertain, they were both stubborn, so they held their ground.

Ariadne began to fill the sink with warm water to wash his injuries.

"No painkillers," She muttered, biting her lip. Her last guest, a drunken college friend called Rory, had taken the last for his hangover. She had written them on the shopping list that she should have completed two days ago.

"I don't need any."

Ariadne simply gave him a look, popping to the kitchen for an interchangeable painkiller. Rum.

"Not too much." She warned, feeling a bit hypocritical, since when it was clear he wasn't coming back, she had gone through a 'too much' faze herself till Vie had kicked her into gear.

She watched as Arthur took a few swigs, then a longer pull, her eyes taking in how he held himself, how his Adams-apple moved, his lips over the bottle…

Arthur noticed where her eyes lingered, and he couldn't help doing the same. She caught him. His eyes were just as burning as ever, but she resisted the pull. She was only there to help. Ariadne got to work.

Arthur turned round on the edge of the tub so she could assess the damage.

"Is there anywhere else?"

"Not sure. Haven't checked. Cant feel anything, but that doesn't mean there isn't anything." He stopped, knowing it wouldn't be wise to go on.

"Anything broken?"

"They didn't get the chance to go that far."

"They?"

The Point Man remained stoically silent.

"Fine."

Ariadne dipped the washcloth in the water, already preparing to throw it out after this. The bloodstains would never come out. The entire natural hue of his back was tinted red, trails marking and blending together. The cuts hadn't gone deep enough to scar, but they were certainly large enough to be painful, and he had lost a fair amount of blood.

"Why come here?" Ariadne asked to keep Arthur focused on something that wasn't how the alcohol was beginning to affect him or the pain. And to find the answer.

He took a moment to reply, and she was worried that he was that bad, he couldn't speak. But then she noticed the tips of his ears tingling pink.

"After I'd dealt with them….I found out I had a few men tailing me. I ducked around to shake them off, trying not to attract too much attention to myself…and…I found myself in your block. If you're worried, I'll leave. I could try to find a safe house from here."

If he hadn't looked like he'd been through hell, Ariadne would have punched him. "Don't be stupid."

She'd already washed off enough to figure out just how many other cuts and bruises he had aside from the carvings.

"I'm going to start treating the open wounds." She warned.

Arthur only flinched when she put the disinfectant on the letters. Ariadne couldn't understand if it was his military training or the alcohol kicking in.

"It's been a year, Arthur."

"A year and 58 days."

Ariadne paused in applying gauze before continuing.

"And you just came crashing back into my apartment."

"Yes."

"No note, letters, postcards, emails, voicemails, texts, calls, visits, skypes, _carrier pigeons_. Nothing."

A beat. A guilty beat.

"Yes."

"I don't know what you're trying to achieve here."

"Nothing, Ariadne."

"Really?" Arthur felt her stop in her movements behind him, and turned so he could see her face.

"I don't know what I'm trying to achieve. All I know is that the same kind of danger that led me away from you pushed me back towards you tonight. What does that make me? A danger?"

"A fool for leaving in the first place."

He couldn't help himself; he leaned in that little distance between them and caught her lips with his.

She tasted the same. He'd missed that.

He'd also forgotten his split lip from that punch up earlier.

Arthur hissed against her mouth, and she gently pushed him back.

"Don't hurt yourself." She paused before daring to add. "I like you better in one piece anyway."

She touched the edge of a deep gash running through the corner of his eyebrow, before applying a butterfly bandage.

He watched her, feeling the lazy tendrils of the scotch kicking in. Ariadne checked over everything else before applying salve to his wrists gently. She glanced up at his face, slightly amused at the relaxed expression his chiselled face was changing into.

"Ready to crash?"

"No, no, no. I'll wait a couple of hours and go. You've had enough trouble for one night."

"You're ridiculous." Images of him lying in a dingy Paris alleyway flitted through her head, and she balked. "You're staying here."

"Is that an invitation?"

Ariadne bit back a laugh at his unintentional innuendo. "Yes, you can stay the night. I'll put Shire's cone on your head so your don't lick your wounds, alright?"

"Sure." Arthur smoothly stood up and caught his sudden sway to the right easily.

Ariadne led him to the bedroom where she ensured he fell asleep on his stomach to help his cuts. She took a blanket and Shire to the couch, and promptly fell back asleep.

* * *

Arthur woke slowly in the morning, which was unusual to say the least. He evaluated that he was shirtless, shoeless, but not pantless, and aching and raw all over. And he was not in a hotel bed.

He breathed in and knew immediately. He was in Ariadne's bed. Alone.

The owner of the apartment and, coincidently, the owner of the bed he had commandeered, walked in at that point.

"Morning."

"What…?"

She sighed. "Last night, you were beaten up, chased, crashed here – "

"No, I mean, what am I doing in _your_ bed?"

"I slept on the couch."

"This is _your_ place."

"And _you_ have cuts all across your back."

"And?"

"Isn't that enough?"

Arthur grimaced, trying to move. "I've had worse. Thank you for letting me stay, I wont trouble you more."

"Don't be a war hero. Lie down, you should take time to recover."

"I shouldn't be here."

"With those injuries, no, you shouldn't."

"What if your boyfriend visits?"

"I don't have a boyfriend, Arthur." She hissed, storming out.

"If you want to leave, then leave." She called icily, before slamming the door shut.

Shire walked out to stare at the front door, then to jump on the bed. He eyed Arthur with what he swore was a sense of disappointment and shame.

Arthur groaned, rubbing his eyes with the heel of hand. That could have gone better.

* * *

Ariadne walked around till the cold started to get to her, then came back with the shopping list completed.

Arthur was cooking in the kitchen.

Shoeless.

Shirtless.

She had never seen him that undone and upright. "What are you doing?"

"Cooking."

Ariadne placed the brown grocery bag on the counter. "You should be in bed."

"You're right. I should be in bed." He threw her a glance over his broad shoulder, and she cursed him for being just as charming as before. His eyes danced.

"Then stop."

"No."

She came over to grab the spatula away from his hands. He caught her hand instead.

"Why?"

"I'm making it up to you." His touch was like an unintentional caress to her palm.

She looked up at him, feeling that rush of being close to him. Ariadne gave him a chance, remaining silent for a change.

He looked down at her, his dark eyes warm and sincere.

"I'm sorry."

He could not have possibly been any sexier just then. The only thing that held her back from jumping him in the kitchen was the fact that he should have been recovering.

She clasped his other hand by his side, backing him up to the sink. Chest to chest, they fell back into their old position of waiting for the kiss. Eyes closed, she could feel his warm breath sweep across her cheekbones, and it made the arches of her feet tingle.

"Why did you have to go and get beat up?"

"Much as I hate it right now, it gave me the kick I needed to get back to you, so I'm not complaining. Too much."

"True," Ariadne murmured, not resisting too well and tracing his lips across his cheekbones and along his jaw. Their entwined hands moved to her hips, and Arthur only let go to begin running his fingers slowly and softly across the small of her back, a place only true gentlemen were allowed to touch. He dusted kisses along the side of her face while her hands slip up his arms gently.

Then, somehow, their lips met, and everything was lost.

Ariadne wasn't aware if she was hurting him, and she probably was.

Arthur wasn't aware of his pain or his embrace being too fierce, yet he noticed when she bit his lip softly, marking him slightly with her own injury. He far preferred it to his other wounds.

Ariadne grinned at him, biting her own lip before running kisses across his collarbone.

"We're not going to make it, are we?"

"No," he murmured against her temple, breathing in her hair. "No, we're not."

"I don't really care."

"No. No, I don't really care either."

* * *

**_Hello,_**

**_Had my choir concert this weekend. Three concerts AND I've still got this together. :)  
Hope you like it._**

**_Reviews pretty please, share the love._**

**_Thanks,_**

**_Light-and-Smoke. _**


	17. Moments d'une vécues dans la vie: Premie

I do not own Inception.

* * *

The next day, Arthur woke up in the same bed. But he wasn't alone.

"Morning."

"Good morning."

He dusted his fingers across the knuckles of her hand.

"Guess we should talk about this."

"Mmm," Ariadne nodded, flipping her hand to catch his.

"Or…we could just…" Ariadne pressed her lips against his mouth.

* * *

"We probably should talk now." Arthur admitted, and Ariadne raised her head from where she had been lying on his chest.

"Alright. What's there to discuss?"

"How I…left."

"You left. You've come back. Question is, how long are you planning to stay?"

"I'm not running off again, if that's what you're thinking."

"Good. Because you might not have survived if you did."

* * *

_Later._

They visited their families in the States. First, her parents. They stayed for the week, and Arthur fitted in just fine. He felt normal, more normal than he had for years.

"Why didn't you talk about your parents more?"

He asked as they sat on the bed on their last night. She looked up at him, and he saw a flicker of shame.

"It's a very silly reason."

"Tell me."

He sat very still, waiting for her to find the words.

"It's a silly fear I have. Very silly. I don't talk about them much because of the fact that they have been happily married for 30 years. A golden amount of time. And they have fought about ten times in those 30 years. They love each other still. I don't want to think about how, they're my parents. But they love each other in that way that you only dream of. And all of that, for 30 years."

She bit her lip.

"When I was a child, I had big hopes of finding something like that. And when I was 18, I thought I had. His name was…"

She swallowed, and went on.

"His name was Ian. I met him in the middle of my senior year. And he seemed so nice, and so daring at the same time. I thought I had found something like my parents. But it wasn't till we were travelling for a gap year together that I realized that my dad didn't lie to my mum. My dad didn't cheat on my mum. My dad didn't…beat my mum."

She whispered the last words, and wiped her eyes furiously.

"So I broke it off, left him in Brussels with some laundry maid. And I went and got a good education with my great aunt, and tried to forget about the whole thing, to just remember it was a lesson. Gold isn't struck twice. You can't find happiness like that for two generations. But then you came along, and I felt different. I felt like that girl again, only wiser. More alive."

She looked at Arthur, at his understanding face, and hoped she had struck a chord. His dark eyes were limitless, yet his smooth face didn't show anything till a small smile tugged at a corner of his mouth. She mirrored it, and breathed out the breath she had been holding.

* * *

What she didn't consider was this. Right before they turned to the road that lead to the airport, Arthur turned down a suburban street. Ariadne frowned, curious, as Arthur stopped the car and unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Can you stay here, please?" He asked gently. She trusted him, so she stayed put.

Ariadne watched through the windscreen as Arthur knocked on the door to one of the flats nearby.

As the man stepped out onto the porch to talk to Arthur, her stomach dropped. Ian. She opened the car door, desperate to hear what they were talking about.

"-out with Ariadne Matthews?"

"Yeah," Ian's voice was just as gruff as always. She hated that now.

"And you beat her." Arthurs voice was eerie, controlled and yet very dangerous.

"Who the hell are you anyway?" Ian asked, defensive and wary.

Arthur's fist flew out of nowhere into Ian's face. "I'm her defense from six years ago. And if I ever hear of your hurting anyone again, you'd better watch over your shoulder."

Ariadne watched silently as Arthur paced back over to the car and drove on to the airport.

"Did you really just do that?"

"Yes, I'm sorry if it offended you." Arthur apologized, flexing his hand.

"It was unnecessary, but incredible. Pull over."

He did as she asked, and she held her face between her palms and smiled at him. "Thank you."

* * *

Their next stop had to be explained.

"My grandparents helped raise me, as you know. Then I had to help them. I worked to earn money to keep them healthy. Even when my grandfather got cancer, even after he died…I was going to keep my grandma as healthy as possible. So when extraction came up, the money played a part in it. I paid for all my grandma's medical bills, stuck with her through thick and thin. That's what helped me get stuck into dreaming, I kept finding jobs so I would earn enough, then I got hooked into the other perks instead."

Ariadne understood now, the last piece of the puzzle falling into place.

She squeezed Arthur's hand. "We're visiting her now, aren't we. Your grandma."

"Yes."

"Good."

The nursing home didn't smell like any typical nursing home. It smelt like sunshine and fresh air, life. They passed the rooms till they reached 12. An elderly woman with salt and pepper hair sat facing the window. Arthur knocked politely. "Nan? It's me."

"Artie? Come in, dear." Her voice was steady and strong. It was only when they drew near that Ariadne realized just how blue and clouded the woman's eyes were.

"Who's there?" She asked, sensing Ariadne's presence.

"Hi, I'm Ariadne."

The older woman smiled. "Ah, this is the girl you've been telling me about."

Arthur smiled. "Ariadne, this is Simone."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Ariadne said truthfully.

"Do you mind, dear?" Simone motioned with her hands.

"Certainly." Ariadne obliged, lowering her face to the woman's worn hands, and they explored her face softly.

"Good hair, small nose, lovely cheekbones. Artie, this ones a keeper."

"I know."

* * *

"Merry Christmas!"

"Auntie Ari! Uncle Arthur!"

Cobb's kids scampered around, showing them the newly designed home.

Ariadne had ended up helping design the place, their minds were so alike, and it had become a sanctuary for all. The children's playroom was a transformable place with draws, doors, cupboards and raisable carpet floors so every fairytale and every story could unfold in reality. The house had a similar feel to it, where the rooms could be altered slightly in size by pulling out walls or folding back wardrobes. Cobb said it was the one practical thing about dreams that he missed, and now he had it in reality.

They all settled down for the night, Phillipa and James tucked up in bed with the pinky promise that Ariadne would play in the 'dream' room, as they called it, tomorrow. The trio of adults sat down in the lounge for a chat before bed.

"Eames is heading up sometime on Monday…and he said something about a plus one."

Cobb noticed the quick look that shot between Ariadne and Arthur.

"Did he mention a name?" Ariadne asked, a smile tugging on the corner of her mouth.

"Something along the lines of Violet or Vie?"

"Told you." Arthur noted, expressionless till he bestowed a smirk upon Ariadne. "He's infatuated."

"More. He's twitterpated." She chuckled.

"What's going on?" Cobb questioned.

"Eames has the hots for my friend, because she has the hots for him but _will not give in_."

"He's been chasing her for months."

"_Eames?"_

"I know."

* * *

Ariadne pulled the wall out slightly and ducked behind it. Cops and Robbers with Phillipa and James was more work than she bargained for. Or at least it hadn't been till Arthur had evened up the teams. If there was one thing Arthur Hale was, it was stubbornly competitive.

Ariadne peeked out from her shelter and began commando crawling between the raised floors to the door. Until James stood in her way, a peashooter in his grasp. Ariadne gasped theatrically and swiftly tumbled into another gap between the floor platforms.

She crawled faster for another path to the door, thinking she was safe, till suddenly she was trapped under a person who was definitely taller than Pip or Jamie. Arthur held his weight off of her, but she was still pinned to the floor.

"Not fair."

"I never said I'd play fair."

His hushed breath in her ear made her giggle.

"You have a very nice crawl, Ms Matthews."

"If you stand up, I can continue it."

"Now why would I let you escape?"

They would have continued to banter their way into something else, only Cobb walked in to fetch them. He raised an eyebrow.

"Don't let Pip and Jamie catch you like that, or you'll be out on the streets."

* * *

Vie and Eames drove up the next day, setting a different mood around the house. Ariadne set up the interrogation as they threw a lunch together in the kitchen while the small kids and the big kids made snow forts.

"When did this happen?" Ariadne asked incredulously. She had been keeping in touch with Vie, they had coffee together only four weeks ago, and nothing had been mentioned in regards to Eames.

Vie pointed a wooden spoon at her menacingly. "Nothing has '_happened_', for your information."

"Sure. The man you continue to say you loath just invited you to stay with him and his friends for the Christmas holidays and you didn't have any plans, so you said yes."

"More or less."

Ariadne raised an eyebrow and waited for the rest of the story.

"He's very persistent. Once he heard that my father and his new wife had made plans of their own and I would be spending Christmas alone, he invited me here. I said yes after a while…. but only because I couldn't see the harm with you being here too."

"And he hasn't…tried anything."

"You know how he is. But no, he's been a real gentleman."

Ariadne choked on the sweet potato she had just started chewing, and Vie helped hit her back till she could breathe again.

When everyone came in for lunch, Ariadne kissed Arthur, delighting in the way he held his icy body against her warm one.

Nevertheless, she kept her eye out on Vie, who shrieked when Eames came near with snow to dust into her hair, but didn't pull away as he discretely warmed his hands in hers.

* * *

The Cobb's had a tradition during Christmas. On Christmas Eve, everyone put an ornament of their choice on the tree.

James had chosen weeks before to put the star on top of the tree, so Arthur, the tallest, lifted him up to place it on the top.

Phillipa delicately placed a tiny stocking she had stitched herself at school on one of the branches.

Eames hung a deer; Vie placed a Christmas bear next to it without a word.

Cobb hung an ornament engraved with the year 1997.

Miles placed a clay heart, clearly handmade and strung with ribbon, on a bough.

Ariadne had pondered, and unclasped her necklace to hang on the tree. Her parents had given her the tiny glass bead charm that was attached to it just before she left for Paris and her architecture course.

Arthur hung a tiny toy soldier nearby, standing guard.

They all waited up with each other, talking and nibbling on Christmas food till midnight, when they all sang 'Angels We Have Heard On High', English and French, as a tradition, before bed.

Neither Ariadne nor Arthur could sleep, so they lay facing each other waiting for dreams to come to them.

Ariadne traced his features with her eyes, going over the new details that the night shine brought out. New freckles, more chiseled jaw lines, a slight hint of stubble that she was aching to reach out and touch…

Ariadne exhaled through her nose, knowing she'd never sleep if she dwelled on the physical.

"Question." She murmured in the dark.

"Hmm?"

"Favorite carol?"

"Ave Maria,"

"Never picked you to be a religious type."

"My mom used to sing it at Christmas Eve. She had the voice in our little family. It was beautiful. She sometimes sang it as a lullaby to me. What's yours?"

"Winter Wonderland."

"Why?"

"It was about playing in the snow and creating snow men. How could you not love it?"

She ran a lazy thumb over the back of his hand where they touched on the mattress between them. She could feel the tendrils of sleep beckoning, and let herself drift in them.

"Arthur,"

"Yes?"

"Where did you go?"

"Nowhere," He answered truthfully, recalling his year without her. "It was pointless."

"Yeah. For a Point Man, you really didn't think of the point there."

"And for an architect, you definitely design a wonderful life."

She chuckled dreamily, eyes closed, and smiled. "I love you,"

Arthur opened his eyes, but she was gone, and he couldn't be selfish enough to disturb her rest. Instead, he lay awake memorizing the intricate plane of her face, and musing on her dreamed worlds.

* * *

As they rode back home on the train from the airport like the true Parisians they were, they watched the world go by comfortably. They simply stood together by the doors, using the same handrail and resting against each other when the train braked and gravity pushed them together.

Seven stops from their station, Arthur rested his forehead against Ariadne's and closed his eyes, saying five words so quietly that she wasn't even sure she was meant to hear them, though she treasured them all the same.

"I never stopped loving you."

* * *

**_Hello,_**

**_Corny end I know, but since its getting towards the end I decided to start getting a little fluffy...can't help it, I feel like I want to give these guys everything before they go._**

**_Yes, that's right. I've typed up everything and the next few chapters are going to be ever increasing moments till I've decided to end it._**

**_Hope you enjoy it, please review if you have a moment to spare._**

**_Thanks,_**

**_Light-and-Smoke_**


	18. Moments d'une vécues dans la vie: Deux

I do not own Inception.

* * *

The days as they settled together were jerky to say the least. Ariadne had a job at an architectural firm, the most domestic, and mundane work she had ever had to face in her life.

She hadn't gone to dreams, as he had half expected her to.

He didn't question it.

She worked four days a week, nine to four, like any other wealthy Parisian. She worked for leisure rather than necessity – inception had taken care of any expenses she would have had for at least six years.

Sometime's she'd come home and he would be there, working, cooking, rarely sleeping. Sometimes he wouldn't be there. Sometimes she expected it. Sometimes she didn't.

When he wasn't there, she'd try to go about her day as normal, walk Shire, make dinner and settle down for the night. Those average days were never fun. The waiting drove her mad.

More than once he had come tapping at the door without word of where he had been. And occasionally he had a few more bruises.

Only once did she see him on edge. He quietly tapped on her door at 1am. Usually at this time he found somewhere else to crash for the night before returning in the morning, not wanting to disturb her. But this time it was different.

Ariadne had been awake anyway, restless and in need of tea. She opened the door to Arthur, all in one piece but with a wild look in his eyes. She ushered him in, glanced quickly into the empty hall before closing the door. He put down the silver case and quietly began pacing around the apartment, checking odd places, his eyes searching. Ariadne watched his progress, then slowly reached out and caught his arm.

"Its already been checked. Countless times. No spy bugs. Its safe here." She murmured.

He ran a hand through his hair, which was looking slightly disheveled; he had been repeating the action. "We were ambushed in the dream. I have to make sure."

"No, what you need is rest." She took in his wide eyes. "Go change, and I'll check for you." She stroked his arm soothingly, and he nodded.

Ariadne neatened up the room, keeping an eye out just in case, but as she claimed, all was safe. She led Shire off to his pillow bed, and gently pulled Arthur to the bed.

"Come on, Point Man, you need sleep."

Even in his grey tracksuit pants and white tee, he didn't look relaxed in the least. Ariadne settled next to him, willing the warmth and horizontal position to shut down his mind for a few blessed hours.

"Let me keep watch for a change, okay?" She stroked his face softly.

Arthur only slept for a few hours before starting awake, jolting upright in bed. Ariadne muffled a shriek, particularly when she saw the moonlight glinting off Arthur's Glock gun, which he slept with under his pillow.

Shire had got to the disturbance first, his teeth latched around the ankle of…

"Blimey, would you two lovebirds call off the little mongrel?"

'Eames…" Ariadne growled along with Shire, before calling her dog over quietly, still mindful of the hour. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Just wanted to check how Arthur is…that dream wasn't pleasant." Eames shuffled over, uncertain. Apart from the dark, he knew how personal a bed could be, and he certainly didn't want to ponder about his two friends and colleagues in one together.

Arthur had lowered the gun, but was still slightly shaken. Ariadne carefully pried the gun from his fingers, latching on the safety before easing her knee and arm behind his back for support.

"What happened?"

"Lets just say the mark was clever, realized it was a dream and lead his projections into a violent attack. If he had realized it was a dream a few minutes sooner, Arthur might have dropped into Limbo."

Ariadne's stomach lurched, and Arthur winced, his shoulders tensing.

"Please don't remind me, Eames."

"Just checking to see the _little grey cells_ are still all there."

They both shot him an odd look.

"What, I'm not allowed to read _Poirot_?"

"I'm all here, Eames, thanks. I just need some rest."

"Sure thing," In the dim light, unseen by Arthur, Eames flashed the phone hand gesture to Ariadne, who nodded slightly, before he made his exit.

"He picked the lock, didn't he." She sighed.

"Yes, darling." Came Eames' reply before they heard the front door close behind him.

Arthur lay back down and huddled slightly with Ariadne for comfort.

"I think I've had enough." He said quietly in the dark.

Ariadne kissed the side of his jaw and exhaled, thinking again.

She returned from work the next day with a new demeanor and a new key.

"Your's now." She smiled, placing it in his palm. "It's about time you had your own way in. And I've got us a new job."

"Yet another illegal jaunt?"

"No. Not exactly."

* * *

He didn't want to believe it could be working. He didn't want to allow hope and calm before it was demolished by another attack, another bloodthirsty business. It wasn't until a week after the fourth job that he allowed himself to take a deep breath and let the worry go.

Ariadne's idea had worked. They hired themselves out to the law enforcers to catch criminals. And it had worked. No foul words about them, no dirty looks, they walked with respect. They had clean records again. Even Eames. No people were chasing them. They didn't need to live in fear. They could just live.

He came back from the store, placing the brown paper bag on the counter before turning to Ariadne as she cooked on the stove. He wound his arms around her waist, nuzzling his face into the nook of her neck and sighing again.

"I love you, so much."

She took his hand and kissed his fingers in a brief moment of intimacy before whispering into his palm.

"I love you more."

* * *

The closest you could get to dreaming in Paris was walking around the Eifel Tower. There was a feeling of Godliness, of looking down on a structured city and wondering. Arthur and Ariadne walked around the deck in comfortable silence, admiring the view.

That is, until a man proposed to his girlfriend, who shrieked and burst into tears before accepting the ring to a smattering of applause.

Ariadne grimaced and hurried their walk to the other side of the observation deck.

"Its so corny. I mean, it's a lovely gesture, but on the Eifel Tower? How cliché."

Arthur deadpanned his face, but Ariadne could tell that something was whirring inside his head.

"What?" She asked, her stomach sinking.

"I had thought this through a few dozen times, each scenario worse than the last. I thought here and now would be the best, a place for dreamers like us, but after that I don't think you'd want me to…"

Ariadne caught on. "Oh, no. I ruined it, didn't I?" She was somewhere between laughing and curling up with grief. "Gosh, I'm so sorry…"

Arthur laughed too. "Why would you be sorry? I should be, after that, to think that I should propose to you now and up here…"

The word set reality to it, and Ariadne tightened her hand around Arthurs. He noted it with a smirk.

"I know its cliché, but it has some meaning behind it. I thought it out too far. Its my job to be too attentive to detail."

"I wouldn't have you any other way." She grinned.

"So you will have me?" Arthur's smirk grew bigger.

Ariadne laughed. "Is that how you're proposing?"

Arthur chuckled, taking both her hands in his to avoid the next cliché of proposing on one knee. "I declare now, Ariadne, that you are beautiful, intelligent, very stubborn, but perfect. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

"Of course, you old-fashioned loon." She smiled, and as he slid the ring onto her finger she tugged him into her embrace.

* * *

Ariadne felt like she was in a dream. It was the feeling of uncomfort, instability, and utter ridiculousness. She tapped her foot nervously in the small entrance hall. She had been pacing, but her father had forced her to stand still.

The dress was too long. The aisle was too long. She knew she couldn't hold the bouquet right. She wanted tea. She wanted Shire. She wanted charcoal. She wanted Arthur. And he was the person who'd gotten her into this predicament and then had the nerve to wait for her at the end of one of the longest walks of her life.

"You ready, girl?" Her father asked, as the music sounded from the other side of the 18th century Parisian oak doors.

Ariadne twitched her veil one more time, bit her lip, ran her finger over the chess piece totem that she had stitched and hidden in her bodice, took a breath, and nodded.

Ariadne took in the architecture on her first walk down the aisle when she visited this church at the age of sixteen. The aged oak had been just as beautiful as it was that day.

It was a fairly small church, only fourteen rows of pews, majestic ceilings, and breathtaking stain glass windows.

She hadn't known till her second walk down the aisle nine years later that it was where she knew she wanted to get married. It was spectacular fate that Arthur thought the same.

As Ariadne walked down this particular aisle for the third time, she didn't focus on the architecture, or the future. She forgot about her mother blinking furiously to stop tears in the front row, Phillipa and James grinning at her next to Miles, her _proper_ college and school friends, all twelve of them on the left, Arthur's 'good' business associates and the few friends he stayed in touch with, all eight of them on the right. She forgot about Yusuf watching quietly apart from the beam on his face. She forgot about Cobb standing proudly on the right near the altar. She almost missed the look that Eames and Vie shared across the aisle by the altar before their eyes became transfixed on her. She only saw the man in front of her. The man, who, out of all the men assembled, looked least out of place in a tux and was by far the most handsome. The man who she was finally beginning to read like the back of her hand. The man who looked at her as if nothing else existed but her. Arthur.

The aisle suddenly seemed like the shortest glide of her life.

As the doors opened, Arthur went through a range of states. He felt assured and calm right till the millisecond that the doors opened slowly. His stomach unexpectedly dropped.

He wasn't unsure of Ariadne. He wasn't unsure of his decision. He was uncertain of reality.

He hadn't needed to check his totem recently. He had stopped rolling his die. Because he had found a way of keeping track of reality, something reliable that could never be replaced. Something honesty and good and true. Ariadne. But he hadn't seen her, and he hadn't checked his die. He felt its weight in his tux pocket, and he yearned to take it out to confirm.

But then an angel passed through the doors. An angel in such a beautiful, simple white silk dress, an angel who floated down the aisle serenely smiling at him, melting his insecurities away. Making him sure. This was reality. Because there was only one Ariadne. And she was his.

* * *

Cobb knew the moment they walked through the front door.

"Congrats."

"For what?" Arthur deadpanned.

"On your little Point Child or Architect baby to be."

"How'd you know?" Ariadne asked, instinctively resting a hand against her belly. She wasn't showing very clearly, she was only 8 weeks in.

Cobb smiled. "I can tell. Plus I remember that look that Arthur giving you now. It was the same look I gave Mal."

Ariadne squeezed his hand. "Well, thank you. No one else has guessed it yet, it's still very early."

"When was the last time you used the PASIV?"

Arthur shot Cobb a look over Ariadne's head.

"Not for months. There's been a real lull in work at the moment." She caught on. "Why?"

"I didn't let Mal dream when she was pregnant."

"That's why we haven't had a job?" Ariadne turned to Arthur.

"There were some test cases…"

"All very experimental."

"They showed that the somacin used in the PASIV device can act differently with pregnant women."

"Possible miscarriages."

Ariadne looked between the two men, aware of how fragile they thought she was.

"I just don't want to be reckless." Arthur said softly, curling his hand around hers.

She already felt like a drug addict in rehab, knowing that she couldn't do the one thing that freed her mind.

* * *

It was over very quickly. Ariadne was surprised. She clung to that emotion to avoid the others battling in her head.

Arthur didn't like hospitals. He was always thankful whenever he could use the excuse of his job to get patched up at home rather than in a hospital where you felt like the walls were choking you.

The doctors let him in the small single bedroom. Ariadne lay there limply. When she saw him come through the door, she looked astonished still.

"I lost it." Her voice was muffled, small and mournful.

Arthur ignored the twinging feeling in his ribcage like someone was trying to hack through his heartstrings, and gathered her up in his arms, intent on comforting her first.

"I didn't think it would do any harm…but I woke up and there was blood…I'm sorry."

"Its okay, its alright."

"I should have listened."

"You're okay. We'll be alright."

* * *

Dreams weren't pleasant for a while. First, she refused to go near them. Arthur, though he did not share the same newfound fear for the PASIV device, gave up dreaming for months as well. He had lost a child to it. They had lost a child, no matter how small.

But, like all addicts, soon the abilities of a subconscious mind beckoned. Ariadne was persuaded to dream again once she realized how much she missed it.

Every design was a struggle, and Ariadne was tempted to let her buildings come crashing down around them. Yet she persevered, every structure a challenge, every wall overcome. She found her love for it again.

And though it could never replace the damage, it still began to repair it.

* * *

**_Hello,_**

**_Sorry, this one has some ups and downs. I promise that this is as sad as it gets. I can assure you that it hurt me so much more to give them something so heartbreaking. But life isn't always easy, and thought I love these two dearly, they are like everyone else as well in the end._**

**_Reviews are welcome, only a few more chapters to go now._**

**_Thanks,_**

**_Light-and-Smoke_**


	19. Moments d'une vécues dans la vie: Trois

I do not own Inception

* * *

Arthur liked having something reliable. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it earlier. His life was chaos. True, he tried to sort that chaos to create specificity and order, yet he still lived like a roaming bachelor, a loose vagabond in Armani suits.

So when he started to travel without Ariadne on favor jobs he owed to old colleagues, he began to realize just how much he would look forward to returning to Paris after a long flight and be able to go to a _home_ where a loved one would be missing him. He was able to live a life that he hadn't since university days, where he could buy groceries and cook, and clean, and do laundry. He could afford to misplace a book and find it under the couch (though he rarely permitted it to happen). He could learn to live as a functioning, social human being, living in the same space as another functioning, social human being.

He would never be able to completely pinpoint what made this fact of reliability so good. He only knew that being able to relax at home and help Ariadne brush tangles out of her beautiful thick hair was more of a privilege than he could imagine.

* * *

Ariadne and Arthur were on babysitting duty as Cobb was offered a guest lecture at the university. The Cobb's came to France every six months, staying in a beautiful cottage on the outskirts of Paris. Phillipa and James excitedly showed Arthur and Ariadne around, and then settled into an activity before dinner: Suggest-a-Sketch.

Arthur volunteered to make dinner as soon as the activity began, smirking at Ariadne before disappearing to leave her with the task of being the solo entertainment. She picked up a pen and waited for a command.

"Alright, Ari, can you please draw an alien?"

She promptly began to draw. Phillipa and James would jump in with suggestions and ideas ("Make it a dress," "And big boggle eyes, too." "Do you think it has webbed feet?") till she finished and then Phillipa and James colored each suggested idea in. Ariadne became so involved in the activity; it wasn't till she felt Arthur's hand on her arm that she recalled dinner.

"Can we switch for a moment?"

Ariadne narrowed her eyes at him: he had his persuasive face on.

"What did you do?"

They left the kids engrossed in colours to inspect the kitchen. All was ready and perfect…except the potatoes, which were as hard as rocks.

"They are one of the most staple foods in this world. I don't know how you do it."

Arthur actually looked bashful as he pressed her against the sink. "Please…?" He nuzzled her neck, he knew she was incredibly sensitive there, and she gave in very quickly, like he knew she would.

"Alright, fine, you impossible man. Just don't say I didn't warn you about Suggest-a-Sketch."

Once dinner was completely ready, she headed to the lounge to round them up. She nearly laughed at how out of character Arthur was. He had produced some drawings that had potential, but he was struggling for sure.

"Told you so."

* * *

Eames would never admit this out loud, but he liked working with Ariadne and Arthur. They were mostly professional, save one or two moments. They could stay focused when they really needed it.

Eames, on the other hand, couldn't keep his focus on his work and off his co-worker. As an added precaution, Vie had been recruited by Ariadne to watch the team as they delved into other minds. Eames and even Arthur had some doubts about this, until they woke up from a successful heist to find Vie sitting calmly watching two men and a woman tied up in the corner struggling in their bonds. They took her seriously from then on.

Vie came in every so often to remain updated and help out where she could. Eames couldn't concentrate. He had no idea how the pair did it.

* * *

She loved working with him as they fell into a routine. Wherever they were, she would always know that he set up their little movable house of garments and objects in the hotel before he would unwind from the long plane trips.

Ariadne would go along with his preference for order and specificity till he relaxed. Then, of course, she would tease him, slowly disheveling him, making him turn to chaos once he was surrounded by order. Loosening his tie, mussing his hair with the constant raking of her fingers and, if she dared, undoing his top button, were all acts she looked forward to. For no one else saw Arthur in all his light and dark, in his strength and softness. No one but Ariadne.

* * *

The mark was colour blind. This caused an issue similar to Arthur's military friend. The mark didn't know colour, yet the team would dream it. Arthur really did not like this job.

The only thing he could appreciate about it was Ariadne's alterations to combat this. She changed the entire colour scheme of her city, adding dramatic lighting that would wash their natural flesh colours into natural grey. He couldn't imagine where she got her creativity from. But he loved her even more for it.

* * *

The mark had been trained again. They were prepared this time, Arthur had known. They had trained themselves. So when they were driving through he streets of the city shooting at armed projections, they didn't expect anyone to get injured. They certainly didn't expect it to be Arthur.

Arthur recoiled from the shot like a spring, hunching in on himself. Ariadne gently took the gun from his hands and shot through the window at the attackers, till they were driving in relative silence to the warehouse. Eames dealt with the mark, tugging him off to another room after giving Ariadne a look mingled with concern for Arthur and pride on her gun abilities.

She focused on Arthur.

"Where?"

"It's not that bad."

"Where?" She asked more urgently.

Arthur remained coiled in on himself.

"Goddamn it, Arthur, _where?_"

He pulled himself up carefully, revealing the bright red on his right shoulder. His eyes focused intently on her; she recognised his method to blank out the pain. His jaw clenched. He wasn't going well. But he was alive, and in this dream it helped.

She tried to make her frantic kiss gentle, but her heart was beating so fast at the fact that he was okay. He returned it with intensity, but she backed off to help him more with the injury.

"I'll take out the bullet. It wont be easy, but it'll hurt you less and buy more time."

He watched her set up the first aid kit with ease and smiled, despite himself.

"You did it."

"What?" She asked, dousing a cotton bud in disinfectant.

"Took out the bad guy for a change." Arthur referenced, making Ariadne smile too.

"Bad _guys_. Plural. And hell yes I did. Now hush up while I de-bullet you."

* * *

They loved to cook together. Not so much for the food, but more the preparation. Every mealtime they would move like dancers around the kitchen, never tousling, never bumping, completely aware of space. Arthur would dice green peppers; Ariadne would chop the onion, because regardless of his many rock-solid credibility's as a Point Man, Arthur could not chop onion. Sometimes they would talk. Sometimes they would prepare in silence, mutual smiles permanently tugging at their mouths. And sometimes their iPods would grace the kitchen air.

"Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream," Ariadne harmonized absent-mindedly with The Chordettes. "Make him the cutest that I've ever seen. Give him two lips like roses in clover. Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over –"

"Sandman," Arthur joined in with his speak singing – despite his musical tone when speaking, he couldn't carry a tune. But it didn't stop him trying to sing.

Ariadne chuckled and joined him again. "Please turn on your magic beam. Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream."

For a moment's interlude, Arthur took Ariadne's hand and spun her into a dance around the kitchen in time with the music. Their life couldn't be more random. But it suited them perfectly.

* * *

When Arthur had to get glasses, Ariadne thought she might faint. He looked so dashing, reminding her strongly of a more dashing Clark Kent. Of course, he only needed them for reading so she made sure to set aside moments of the day purely to see him wearing the tick rimmed glasses. Breakfast and newspapers, documents on the next job, reviews, books. She asked him to read aloud to her on more than one occasion, and it became a routine. They would read a section of their books to each other before they would unwind for the night.

"Alice had no more breath for talking; so they trotted on in silence, till they came into sight of a great crowd, in the middle of which the Lion and Unicorn were fighting. They were in such a cloud of dust, that at first Alice could –"

"Lewis Carroll?" Ariadne interrupted with a smile. "Really?"

"You did recommend it to me." Arthur noted.

"And it's certainly helped your 'open mindedness'." Ariadne smirked. She couldn't imagine how it could get better than this, Arthur reading one of her favorite books with glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

"Your turn."

"Not fair. Your's was short."

He smirked at her, knowing exactly why she liked him reading. Ariadne had to focus on the book, not on him with his sexy smirk and Jude Law glasses.

"'Would you rather, therefore, have had nothing at all?' 'No. This is where I have always been coming to. Since my time began. And when I go away from here, this will be the mid-point, to which everything ran, before, and from which everything will run. But now, my love, we are here, we are now, and those other times are running elsewhere.'"

* * *

**_Hello,_**

**_Newest update and a recommendation: Google search Joseph Gordon-Levitt glasses if you think he is just as dashing as I believe he is._**

**_Only one more chapter to go! I have a few more ideas for stories, so I wont be away from Fanfiction for too long. I just think this has proved just how much I need to create the entire story before publishing it, and if you guys have any ideas to add to the story adding them to the already created plot?_**

**_Second last reviews would be wonderful!_**

**_Thanks,_**

**_Light-and-Smoke_**


	20. Moments d'une vécues dans la vie: Fin?

I do not own Inception.

* * *

After settling an information job with a legal firm, Arthur trekked home. He opened the door with its slight announcing creak as usual, only silence followed.

"Ri?" He called, immediately jumping to danger without her reassuring reply. Arthur stood still, waiting to hear something. A familiar hiss caught him. He followed the faint noise to the study, where Ariadne lay on the floor, hooked up to the PASIV device. Alone.

Normally, Arthur would have left her along and questioned it later. Yet his curiosity got the better of him, and he lay down next to her.

He woke up in a country setting with green fields flowing in the gentle breeze. A house very similar in layout to the warehouse stood just a little while away, with a small vineyard branching out from it.

Arthur moved towards it, captured. It was so picturesque, so beautiful, so _normal_. He moved silently through the yard and up the stone porch steps, quietly opening the door. It moved easily beneath his hands. He continued down the wooden corridor, and began exploring the house. It held small snippets of their life; an armchair that had belonged to his grandparents, Ariadne's china plates in a cabinet, photos on the mantelpiece, the quilt they bought at that market. But Arthur discovered something new in the end room. The door was already ajar, and he looked in to find a warm room lit with the afternoon sun. Ariadne was there, her hair shining golden and amber in the light. And in her arms, a tiny bundle cooed, its small, plump hands wrapping around fallen curls of her hair.

It was at that moment that Arthur knew, and an idea began to form.

* * *

"Are you tired of running yet?" Ariadne asked Arthur one night as they travelled home on a sleeper car train. He twisted her slightly onto her back from where they had been curled together on the cabin bed, evaluating her face.

"Yes. Why?"

"Because I need a home."

They found it in another warehouse in Paris. Ariadne walked around the space, hand entwined with Arthur's, and was reminded of their first conversation.

"I can really work here. My mind's open."

Ariadne would soon realize just how much she needed to open her mind and create.

* * *

She took a break to design something in reality, something that was theirs. Their warehouse home. She would go and sit in the middle of the concrete floor, letting her mind wander and build a life around her that would soon be accessible.

Other times she would distance herself, working in the little study space that she called her own at the apartment. Arthur would come home to find her cross-legged on her chair, lost in pensive thought, papers scattered across every flat surface, taped onto windows and walls. He'd gently coax her away from paper and pen with the scent of dinner, and she would drop back into reality.

* * *

They made an odd pile as they dreamt. Ariadne and Arthur curled towards each other on their sides.

They were waiting for a kick.

Their hands were entwined. On top of Ariadne's ever swelling belly.

Shire curled around their tangled legs, facing in to this new focus point of pure creation.

* * *

Arthur loosened his tie as he closed the door behind him. He didn't like working without her, but they had both agreed that it would not be a good idea for her to go anywhere near a PASIV in her current state.

So instead, Ariadne found everything and anything to keep herself occupied. The house was spotless, despite Arthur's refusal to have her exhausted herself. She personally thought it was just an excuse for him to carry her around everywhere.

On that particular afternoon, Arthur followed his nose to the kitchen. Ariadne had prepared a roast and sat watching it cook in the oven. She had already prepared it to perfection. But she was also seated on the counter watching it as she ate burnt popcorn.

Arthur rolled his die between his thumb and forefinger to check. It was reality.

"You can cook entire feasts, but you can't cook a simple microwave snack." He smirked, walking over to where she perched.

"Hey," She smiled, sighing. "I had a craving."

He twinned his arms around her, one going straight to her waist.

"Anything exciting today?"

"I came home."

"That's very exciting." She teased. "How are Vie and Eames?"

"Vie's coming over tomorrow to see you. Eames invited himself along, of course."

"Of course."

He kissed her, then pulled back. "I'll make some edible popcorn."

* * *

"You've done beautifully." Arthur kissed Ariadne's sweaty temple.

"You sure?" She panted.

"Of course." He murmured, and she smiled.

"Here he is." The nurse passed over a blue bundle that was so impossibly small. But all the best impossible things started out small.

Arthur and Ariadne were silent, gazing down.

"Hey,"

"Hi there,"

And just like that, Arthur and Ariadne Hale welcomed Samuel Hale into the world.

* * *

Arthur, the light sleeper, woke as Ariadne stirred beside him with mother's intuition.

"He's up."

Sure enough, a gurgle and a whimper sounded from the next room.

"I'll get this one." Arthur volunteered.

"No, let me. You barely sleep enough as it is."

They both went, Shire too, tiredly clicking his way across to the kitchen with Arthur while Ariadne cradled Sam.

Arthur came back with two cups of tea and a small saucer of tea for Shire to find Sam staring up at his mother with his chocolate drop eyes. Ariadne gazed back, gently rocking him with the look only a parent can possess. She broke away from the intent baby gaze to smile at Arthur. No words needed to be said. They just let their feet tangle between them as their child drifted back into sleep.

* * *

Ariadne arrived home late. She had been lecturing across in Bastille, and had to travel for three hours just to arrive home. It was worth it, though. Just to see her two boys.

She quietly stepped in, shutting the door softly. A lamp was still on, and Ariadne realized she wasn't the only one not in bed asleep. Arthur lay on the couch on his back. Sam, little 10-month-old Sam, was cradled to his chest, lying stomach down on Arthur's torso. Both were in a deep sleep. Both had fallen asleep waiting for her. _Mom._ She still smiled at that thought.

* * *

"Daddies home!" Sam cried as the front door clicked open.

He toddled as fast as his little legs could carry him to meet Arthur. He caught his son and lifted him light into the air before settling him against his side, his face slipping into a controlled mask. Ariadne read it as easily as a newspaper.

"Daddies got a bit of explaining to do." She smiled still as she gathered up the dinner plates. Before Arthur could get to the kitchen himself, she returned with a plate of steaming food for him.

"Thank you." He kissed Ariadne chastely before setting Sam down and easing himself into the chair. He stole a glance at Ariadne and caught her gaze. She knew.

"Alright, Sammy, do you think you can get into your pj's by yourself now?"

Sam beamed eagerly, already wanting to prove himself. "Yeah! And then _une histoire_?"

"Of course, a bedtime story." Ariadne smiled, kissing the top of his head. He smiled, just like his fathers unexpected grins of joy. Sam scampered off to his room, and Ariadne raised herself to look at Arthur.

"Where were you?"

"Just a little late."

"How bad is it?"

"I patched myself up."

"Then I'll do it myself later." She sighed. "I thought we didn't have to worry about this. Should we change? Do we need to move?"

"No, they wont come here. I just wasn't careful on the job. A purely unrelated attack that could have been avoided if I'd been paying attention."

She whistled through her teeth. "The Point Man, not paying attention! Why?"

"I missed you." The sincere look made her soften.

"I wanted to get back to you as soon as possible, and I got lazy. It wont happen again."

Ariadne sat on his lap, curling herself into his shoulder. "Well, we aren't going anywhere, so take your time. The only important thing is that you come back safe." She kissed him properly, only pausing when Sam called for her.

"_Moooom?_" Ariadne smiled against him and got up carefully. "Don't move. I'll be right back." He couldn't help himself anyway. Arthur slowly shifted himself upright and went to stand in the doorway to his sons' room.

"Suddenly, the dragon yawned. It rubbed its eyes and stretched its wings. The knight felt frightened, but stood his ground and found bravery. The dragon was grumpy from being woken up from his dreams, and breathed fire at the knight. But the knight raised his frozen shield from his snowy village, and the fire turned to snow. The dragon tried to breath fire again, and found he couldn't breathe anything but snow. But he liked this, because now he could play with the villagers and have snowball fights. So the dragon, the knight and the villagers played in the snow together happily."

Sam almost dislocated his jaw in a huge yawn.

"Alright, go to sleep now." He snuggled as Ariadne tucked the covers around him and kissed his forehead. She switched off the light, leaving the hall light on for comfort, and pointed Arthur towards the bathroom.

Arthur had a neat, hasty bandage on his side. She peeled it back to reveal a simple gash, already stitched up.

"Nice handicraft."

"Thank you."

"Mind if I iodine it?"

"Not at all."

He rested against the sink as she washed the stitch first with water, then with her disinfectant.

Arthur looked at her to distract himself.

"Anywhere else?" He hesitated. "Show me." He complied. He had a few cuts and scrapes all over, but his back in particular bore a horrific bruise. She spied darker lines, forming shapes, like a word that had been imprinted into him.

"Metal pole?" Ariadne said between her teeth.

"You're getting good at this."

She put her salve on it, something she devised with Yusuf to help ease and accelerate. She ran her fingers over the scar from her first patch up on him, and exhaled.

"I trust you more than the doctors, especially since they ask more questions than you, and require a trees worth of paperwork."

Ariadne put the first aid kit away. "I'm flattered."

Arthur smiled at her, shrugging his shirt back on and allowing Ariadne to do up the buttons slowly just to feel her fingers brush against this chest.

"I'm going to retire."

Ariadne's fingers froze in what she was going and lifted her face to see his properly.

"Its about time I did. That doesn't mean I'll give up the PASIV for good. It doesn't mean I wont work. It doesn't mean you have to give it up either. But I'm tired of running and feeling like I need to serve someone to protect something I love. Its what my father did, and it ruined our family. It destroyed my mother. And I refuse to do the same thing."

Ariadne buried herself into Arthurs shoulder. His shirt hit the sink again very quickly.

* * *

Phillipa's birthday party was a very chaotic affair.

Arthur refused to let Ariadne do anything as she floated around like one of the many helium balloons.

Eames would have laughed, but he was well on the way to being in the same condition as Vie progressed into her 5th month.

Cobb, already akin to these scenarios, set up chairs and had the two women settled in moments.

Sam, only three years old, tried to keep up with James' ten year old antics.

Phillipa, accustomed to these family birthdays and the strange people her father knew, placed her hand against Ariadne's belly to feel the kick.

"Someone's playing soccer in there."

"And using my organs as a squeeze toy. Even Sammy wasn't this way." Sam, hearing his name, smiled his toothy toddler smile. Phillipa beamed back, picking up the boy she deemed her cousin.

"Lets go see if we can dig out the old Lego set, hmm, sweet? I'll help you build a birthday castle."

Ariadne leaned against Arthur as he rested against her chair. "Still don't want to know?"

They had agreed again.

Arthur nodded. "It's from you. I know they will be perfect."

She kissed the hand that lay on her shoulder.

* * *

A girl. A baby girl. A beautiful baby girl. A beautiful baby girl with golden brown hair.

"My mother had the same." Arthur smiled, cupping his daughter's tufty head. Her tiny, paper light hand curled around one of Ariadne's fingers and she felt her heart skip a beat at one of her most tiny precious creations.

"Marie," She cooed, and she swore her baby girl squeezed her finger ever so slightly in agreeance.

* * *

Vie and Eames came to stay, with Rosa in tow. The four laughed at their own domesticity as their tots drew their own little worlds with crayons.

"Don't you ever want to dream again?" Vie questioned in a hushed voice, as if the topic were taboo to even their own children, who had no clue of anything.

Arthur and Ariadne shared a look. Then they both looked at Eames, who rolled his eyes.

"Suppose I'll start us off. Yes. I do. Its not like I don't love this life, a real life, but I miss it."

He nodded his head towards Arthur. "No. I know why you miss it. It's the God feelings. It's the danger and the fighting, the thrill of illegality. But we've got a good thing now. Ands its better than what we ever had."

What he didn't add was that itch he felt sometimes, the urge to move and do something more dangerous. He knew it was foolish, so he didn't mention it. But it didn't stop it being true.

"I miss it. Buts it's a drug. An actual drug. Of course we've addicted. And of course we crave it. And of course if we go back, we'll fall into it again. I miss it. But I've resigned it to the past."

Vie sighed. "All you say is true. And I agree with it all. It's a fools dream. A youths dream. We cannot dream it."

But it was so tempting all the same.

* * *

**_Hello,_**

**_C'est fini, folks. _**

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**_Light-and-Smoke_**


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